


Burn to Ash and Bone

by lawsofman



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Gore, Violence, shelby sister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:40:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawsofman/pseuds/lawsofman
Summary: Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.
Relationships: Alfie Solomons/Original Female Character(s), Alfie Solomons/Reader, Bonnie Gold/Original Female Character(s), Bonnie Gold/Reader, past johnny dogs/reader
Comments: 25
Kudos: 118





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> When I initially posted Burn to Ash and Bone, I enjoyed it, but I realized that I would run into continuity problems because it had been so long since I had seen season 4, so I decided to scrap the initial chapter, go watch seasons 3 and 4, then rewrite the whole thing. Here is the prologue to set up the story! It takes place in season 3, while the rest of the story takes place in season 4. I hope you all enjoy it.

“Alright, talk to me.” Since Grace’s horrific passing, Tommy had become manic. 

Somewhat understandably so. 

Losing Grace hit Tommy harder than Gwendolyn had ever seen him hit by anything. The unstoppable force that was Thomas Shelby was rocked to the core when his wife was fatally hit with a bullet meant for him. And he knew exactly who that bullet came from. 

“The boys got to Angel at the hospital where he laid. Slit his throat.” Gwen started. Tommy nodded, taking a quick inhale of his cigarette. 

“He’s dead.” Arthur chimed in, giving a hand gesture to further push his point.

“Had the rest of the Italians cleared out of the south of the city,” Gwen reassured.

“They mostly went to the Black Country,” John chimed in. Gwen kept her gaze on Tommy because she knew that if she so much as looked at John right now, she was going to punch him straight in the mouth for causing all of this trouble to begin with. Once again, _she_ was taking the brunt of cleaning his mess. “But we told Betty Kitchins to keep her moving.”

“And Betty sends her condol-“

“What about the old man?” Tommy cut Arthur off. 

“We interrogated his boys,” Gwen spoke up, tapping the ash off the end of her cigarette in the ashtray on Tommy’s desk. “He went to Liverpool. He’s waiting for an immigrant ship to New York.”

“When?” Tommy looked to Gwen, ever his source of information.

“Berthed ship sails Saturday,” Tommy nodded once more.

“Alright,” He paced behind his desk for a moment, “I have connections in Cunard and Liverpool.” He picked his cigarette up from the same ashtray. “They’ll have passenger lists. They can get you into the point of departure.” He directed this towards Arthur and John. “You pick him up and you bring him to me. Who’s he got traveling with him?”

“His wife,” Arthur mumbled.

“What?”

“His wife.” Arthur spoke up, clearly. Tommy shrugged, then carried on.

“Then shoot her and bring him to me,” Gwen stood from her seat.

“I hardly think that’ll be necessary,” Tommy’s icy glare turned to his sister. “You already killed his son, and now you’ll have the retired head mafioso of the family. His wife is nothing, and her death will _bring_ nothing. It’s an unnecessary body to add to the already growing count, Tommy. I know that you want-“

“Enough,” Tommy snapped. Gwen sat back down and sighed. There was a thick silence in the room before John spoke up.

“Uh, Tommy,” Tommy turned his attention to the younger brother. “Mrs. Changretta was our teacher at school,”

“She’s a good woman, Tom. A good woman.” Arthur cut in, pleading his case. Tommy looked between his three siblings and felt beside himself, but he also felt a growing frustration with the insubordination. Gwen didn’t like the wild look in Tommy’s eyes, nor the heavy bags that rested under them. 

“Well, if she’s a good woman, then she’ll go to Heaven, eh, Arthur?” And that was the end of the conversation regarding the fate of Mrs. Changretta. “Just do what’s on the list,” Tommy handed a piece of paper over to John, “Nothing else. Then burn it. Don’t speak in the phones. The fucking Secret Service is listening.” John was slow to lean up, but he didn’t walk over to Tommy’s outreached hand. “I want the old man alive. I want to do it myself.” The tension grew heavier when no one responded to him. Arthur quickly stood from his chair and took the paper, seeing as John was incredibly hesitant. Tom immediately sat down and dismissed the siblings from his office. 

“Come John, Gwen,” Arthur softly commanded. When neither made a move, he turned to look back.

“Tommy, if you haven’t got a bird in here, you’re going to have to tell us something,” Gwen started as Tommy poured himself a drink and slammed it back in one go.

“Ask Polly,” was his only dismissive response as he poured another drink.

“Not Michael?” John said, more than asked. Gwen could tell that he was poking at Tommy.

“No, not Michael, no. Michael deals with legitimate business.” He explained to John as if he were a child.

“You saw him before us,” Now John was looking directly at Tommy, challenging him, daring him to lie.

“Now is not the time for a tantrum, John,” Gwen stood, motioning for John to follow.

“Wait, _what did you say_?” Tommy, through squinted eyes, asked -dared- John to repeat what he said.

“You saw _Michael_ before _us_!” John’s mouth was tight, trying to keep himself from flying off the handle, but both Gwen and Arthur could see the kettle boiling over.

“For fuck’s sake, John,” Arthur tried to settle him.

“Because legitimate business, John, is the priority,” Tommy replied calmly, stubbing his cigarette out. “Legitimate business-“

“Since fucking when?!” There was the outburst Gwen was waiting for. Tommy slammed his hand on his desk and stood, pointing at John.

“Since my fucking _wife_ took a bullet that was meant for _me_!” Spit flew from his mouth as he shouted. Tommy looked absolutely feral. John, stupidly, stepped closer to Tommy’s desk.

“Yeah, okay. So, Secret Service,” He started waving his hands around, “Secret fucking Service. Blah, blah, blah. But you don’t tell us shit. We’re a bunch of fucking toy soldiers. ‘Do this, John. Do that, John. Kill your fucking teacher, John!’” He slammed his hands on Tommy’s desk. The two men stood, staring at each other, breathing heavily. Gwen and Arthur stood back, watching in case one went for the other. 

Tommy looked down, then looked back up at John. 

“This is how it’s gonna be,” Tommy then went on a small, incredibly vague spiel to not only show John that his tantrum was for not, but his challenge meant nothing to him. He finished with, “Now fuck off,”, which sent the three out the door. 

* * *

Gwen stood at the entrance to the basement of one of the warf warehouses. She lit two kerosine lamps when she saw Arthur and John pull up through the windows. 

“You did it?” Gwen questioned -inquiring about the non-hit on Audrey Changretta- when they were nearing the door. John kept his hold on the old man, his face stoic, but Arthur gave a nod of confirmation. “Good. This stays between us.” She handed a lamp to Arthur as he led the way down the stairs into the pitch black darkness that made the underbelly of the warehouse. The tunnel wound and wound until it spit out into the basement. Gwen set her lamp down so she could move the coverings away from the small windows at the ground level to let light in as the boys removed Vicente’s jacket and shirt before tying him to a chair. The boys stood on either side of Vicente, but Gwen kept her distance. 

She could hear the man mutter in Italian, prayers no doubt. 

A faint light got brighter in the tunnel until Tommy made his way through. The man closed his eyes and prayed harder, knowing that his end was coming soon.

John and Arthur moved away as Tommy placed a chair in front of the old man. He placed his jacket over the back and stared at the pitiful man in front of him and then sat down. Tommy began speaking to Vicente, but Gwen couldn’t hear what he was saying over the elderly man’s prayers, but when he motioned John over for his case of razors, she finally tuned out everything. Waiting for this to end.

Tommy went on and on about which body part he was going to cut off first, His tongue? His eyes? His ears? His toes? He went on like a madman, shoving his hands into Vicente’s mouth before holding his head him his chest like a baby. Gwen looked over to Arthur. She saw his hand in the breast of his waistcoat and nodded, letting him know that she backed him. 

Tommy, seeming to forget that the other three siblings were also in the room, began to back away, manically saying he was forgetting who he was. When he returned to the man, Arthur made the decision to shoot Vicente Changretta in the side of the head, killing him instantly, and ending Tommy’s ludicrous tirade. 

“I heard the blackbird sing.” Was Arthur’s only response to his action. Defiance.

“And we let his wife board the immigrant ship to America.” Gwen snapped her head to John at his admission. The fucking idiot. “We didn’t kill Mrs. Changretta.” Arthur took a few steps towards Tommy.

“It’s alright. We’re not those kind of men,” He said more to John, Gwen, and himself, but it was directed at Tommy.


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.

_*Season 3, Episode 6*_

The incessant ringing of the telephone clawed Gwen from the deep depths of slumber. She groaned, turning her face into her pillow, and wiggled her rear closer to the source of heat coming from the other side of the bed. 

“Keep movin’ like that, right, and I’m liable to hold you hostage in this here bed,” A warm, heady voice mumbled in Gwen’s ear. A beard tickled the bare skin on her shoulder, making her shrug at the feeling. “You get this many fuckin’ calls every mornin’ or just when I’m here?” Gwen sighed, knowing that her plan to sleep in for the day had just ended. 

“Fuck me,” She groaned into her pillow. 

“I mean, we can ‘ave another go if it pleases my lady,” Gwen swung her arm haphazardly, hitting her target. Alfie let an ‘OOF’ out, but held onto her arm, pulling her towards his chest and rubbing his hand over hers. “That wasn’t nice, right, was it?” Gwen glared playfully.

“ _I’m_ not nice,” This made Alfie laugh. The cantankerous man made a move to wrap his other arm around Gwen when the telephone rang again. “If you’d be so kind to excuse me for a moment, I need to find out who needs to die for getting me out of bed,” 

“I’ll be here,” Alfie motioned to the bed. The blankets were hanging off the side, and Alfie was barely concealed by a thin, white sheet. Gwen wiggled out of his sturdy arms and stood, naked as the day she was born. Alfie gave a whistle as she turned and walked out of the room, swaying her hips to taunt him. 

Gwen made it to the parlor as the telephone, once more, began to ring.

“What?” She answered holding the receiver to her ear and the speaker to her mouth. 

“ _Finally!_ ” Finn responded. “ _I’ve called you eight times already!_ ” 

“Someone better be dead, Finn, otherwise someone _will_ be dead.”

“ _Tommy’s called a meeting, I’m just relaying the message_ ,” He quickly defended himself. 

“When?”

“ _I’ll pick you up in about an hour. Tommy’s orders._ ” Gwen rolled her eyes.

“Do you know what this is about?”

“ _No, but he’s called the whole family. Uncle Charlie, Curly, Johnny Dogs, Isiah, Linda, Esme, Lizzie…_ ” Gwen sighed, something was going on.

“Alright, I’ll see you in an hour.” Gwen hung up the receiver and put the telephone back on the side table it resided on. 

“ **Right** ,” Alfie’s voice carried from the bedroom, “ **So whose funeral are we attending, love?** ” Gwen gave a rueful smile to the empty room and started making her way back to the bedroom. She leaned on the doorway, staring provocatively at Alfie.

“Yours, if you don’t keep your trap shut,” Alfie sat up against the headboard as quickly as he could, as fast as his sciatica would allow him, and broke out a million dollar smile. 

“You’ve just got me back in your bed, give it some time before you knife me in my sleep, yeah?”

“You think you’re my only concubine?” Gwen sassed. “The only man I have in my bed?” Alfie’s eyes narrowed, filled with lust.

“Bloody woman,” His voice lowered to almost a growl. Gwen, with the gaze of a lioness, slowly walked back to the bed, swiftly pulling the sheet off of Alfie, and crawling the length of the bed over his legs and onto the waiting man.

* * *

Gwen walked into the big room with Finn and the rest of the family. Everyone looked at each other, at Tommy, all questioning why they were there. Tommy himself stood behind his desk, using both hands to lean on it. A thick cut slashed across the bridge of his nose caught Gwen’s attention as she sat in the first row between John and Polly. 

“Before I begin,” Tommy paused, “I want to let you know I made a mistake.” Gwen felt her heart stop dead in her chest. There was a reason he had everyone together. “I made a mistake, and I want to apologize to all of you.” Tommy’s eyes swept the room, looking at every person seated. The confusion was palpable to everyone in the room. Polly and Gwen exchanged concerned glances before turning back to Tommy. 

“Arthur, you warned me against getting involved in Russian business. And you were right.” Arthur just grunted in response. “I doubted your wife. For that, I’m sorry. Linda, I’ve added 3,000 pound here in the hope that you’ll forgive me.” Tommy tossed a tied stack of cash to the corner of his desk. Linda was quick to stand and take the thick stack from Tommy.

“Apology accepted.” She then took her seat.

“Esme, I doubted you as well.” Gwen could feel the tension from the woman behind her. 

“Now John’s got innocent lives on his conscience.” Alway able to speak her mind, no strings attached. “Ordinary working men-“

“Yeah, alright, Esme. Got it,” John cut in, silencing his wife.

“No, she’s right.” Tommy agreed with Esme, but his eyes never blinked as he stared at the pair. “And you, Arthur, and Gwen are gonna have to share that burden.” At Gwen’s mention, she bit her lip. Tommy tossed another stack of cash on the desk towards John and Esme. “But I hope the house that you can buy with this can become a place of contemplation,” Tommy shrugged, seemingly placated with the whole situation. “Perhaps redemption,” John stood and silently took the money.

“Gwendolyn,” Tommy made eye contact with his first sister. “For all of the sleepless nights. For doing _what_ needs to be done, _when_ it needs to be done. For keeping this business together. For keeping this family together when I couldn’t.” He paused, setting a stack of cash directly in front of her. “And for your guidance when I thought there was only darkness ahead.” Gwen stood, suspicious of the whole thing, but cautiously took the money nonetheless. She gave a small nod to Tommy, who nodded back, and then she sat down. Tommy continued down the line.

“Charlie, for lost tools, dangerous goods and Curly’s wise words.” Tommy motioned to his uncle, then tossed a roll of money for him to catch. “Johnny for the board and lodgings.” Another roll tossed. He placed a roll on the corner of the desk for Lizzie to take, but she just glared and tossed it back at him. Gwen didn’t blame her.

“Michael, for the killings.” He slammed money on the desk. “5,000 for the cuttings, 5,000 for the shootings-“

“No.” Polly stood. “No, Tommy.”

“What?” Tommy shouted, leaning over his desk to get in Polly’s face. “What? Tell me, eh! This is who I am. And this,” He held up more money, “Is all I can give you for what you’ve given me. For your hearts and your souls.” Tommy made eye contact with Gwen once more. “Yesterday I nearly lost my son. You should fuckin’ understand that,” He pointed to Polly, who stood her ground. “For what, eh? For this? For _this_?” He chuckled humorlessly, waving his hands around the room. 

“You mess with the wrong people, and anything can happen Tommy. This shouldn’t be a revelation. What happened wasn’t a surprise to anyone.” Gwen spoke up, standing up next to Polly. Tommy, too lost in his own speech, ignored her.

“And I know you all want me to say that I’ll change. That this fucking business will change. But I’ve learned something in the last few days. Those bastards, those _**bastards**_ ,” He shouted, “Are worse than us! Politicians, fucking judges, Lords and Ladies. They are _worse than us_!” He once again pointed at Polly. “And they will _never_ admit us to their palaces no matter how legitimate we become. Because of who we are. Because of _who we fucking are_ , because of _where we are fucking from_. Isn’t that right, Ada?” Your baby sister, who had stayed silent until this point. All attention was on her. She rolled her eyes, knowing where this was going.

“Our Ada knows. She got smart about the revolution. And she knows you have to get what you want your own way.” She just stared at him, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer. Gwen’s frustration was starting to boil as she moved herself to stand between Ada and Tommy.

“Enough of this,” Gwen demanded, looking Tommy straight in the eyes. “Whatever this is, it’s done. I don’t know why you’ve brought us all here, but if this is it, then I’m calling an end to the meeting.” 

“Lizzie,” Tommy’s voice got louder, once more dismissing Gwen. “Let it be known that that money was for you because some nights it was you who stopped my heart from breaking. No one else.” Putting Lizzie, who was already uncomfortable with the whole situation, on the spot was the final straw for Gwen.

“I said that’s enough!” Gwen shouted, slamming her hand on the desk, startling the room. “Thomas, you need to get yourself together, _quickly_ , because you are rolling down a _very_ steep hill. We are not doing this. Not here. Not now.” Tommy moved, standing toe to toe with his sister, nostrils flaring. He had a few inches over her, but Gwen had never stepped down in intimidation from anyone, much less him. Ever. Polly quietly retook her seat, carefully watching the two. After Grace’s death, the two who were once inseparable, who had built this empire together from the ground up, were now at each other’s throats day and night. 

“And the rest of you,” Tommy directed to the room, but he was speaking directly at his sister. “You took the King’s shilling. You took the King’s fucking shilling. When you take the King’s shilling, the King expects you to kill.” Tommy leaned in closer to Gwen, then turned his head to the eldest Shelby. “Right, Arthur?”

“Yeah,” Arthur muttered after a moment. Tommy turned next to John.

“That’s how it works. Right, John?” John hesitantly nodded. Tommy’s gaze settled back on Gwen.

“You take from the King, you kill for the King. You’ve done far worse for less, Gwendolyn.” Gwen turned to grab her stack of money from her chair. She took the few steps back to the desk.

“I might take a page out of our Ada’s book. Every revolution needs a coup. With the way things are going, maybe Mad King Tommy’s will be the first head on the block.” Gwen spoke dangerously as she slammed the money between herself and Tommy. “Keep your fucking shillings.” She said with finality as she pulled her coat from the back of her chair and stalked towards the door. “Finn!” She called to the youngest Shelby, who immediately stood and took off after her. 

Tommy finally sat in his seat, inhaling his cigarette. Everyone in the room stood, standing awkwardly to see what they should do.

“She can go, but she won’t get far.” Tommy muttered to the room. The confusion and the tension continued to build amongst the occupants.

* * *

Gwen could feel every nerve in her body quake. She ripped her arms through the sleeves of her coat, angrily buttoning it up. Fast footsteps echoed behind her as they caught up. Gwen stopped at the front door, then turned to Finn. Finn, who was still so young, but growing faster than she could keep up with. He towered over her, yet his face still held the youth he tried so hard to get rid of, if only to seem tough. 

“I need you to drive me home,” She spoke softly. Finn nodded, always ready to do as she asked. If there was one person in the family that hadn’t completely lost it -according to Finn-, it was Gwen. Gwen was the mother he never got to have. She helped him with his reading and writing when he refused to go to school. She taught him his manners, and how to respect the women around him. But she also showed him love and nurturing, and for that he would always follow her to the ends of the world. 

Gwendolyn was the steady rock in the family when Finn’s brothers went to war. She was the rock when they got back, not quite themselves. And now Tommy had pushed that rock directly off a cliff, into the unknown. 

“Yeah, yeah, no problem.” Finn took out the car key from his pocket, flipping the key ring around his finger. He opened the heavy door for her and the second she could see outside, her stomach hit the floor. 

Gwen slammed the door shut, nearly taking Finn's hand with it, and grabbed a confused Finn. Gwen stormed back into Tommy’s big room. 

“What the fuck did you do?!” She screamed as she burst into the silent room. The door hit the bookcase behind it and bounced back hard enough to hit Finn. The Shelby woman’s gait held thunder with each step back to Tommy. “What the _fuck_ did you do?!”

“What is she talking about?” John questioned. “Tommy, what the fuck is she talking about?” 

“I spoke to Moss last night,” Tommy didn’t look at anyone as he continued. “He told me that the chief Constable of Birmingham has issued a warrant for Arthur’s arrest.” Gwen could feel a twitch in her eye. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Murder, sedition, conspiracy to cause explosion.” Arthur looked like he was ready to fall over. He would never make it to America. Never see the birth of his first child.

“John, they’re coming for you as well. Murder, conspiracy to cause explosion.” Tommy lazily took a drag of his cigarette.

“Gwen. _Two_ counts of murder, kidnapping with the intent to murder, conspiracy to cause explosion, and forgery.” Gwen felt like her legs were going to give out on her. She wobbled in her heels, feeling like the room was getting smaller. She tried taking deep breaths, but her chest felt tighter and tighter. Johnny Dogs caught her by the waist and sat her in his seat. Her eyes never left Tommy as he continued from her to Michael, then Polly. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Arthur yelled, Tommy’s words finally sinking in. Everyone started screaming over Tommy’s list of charges, terrified of what was going to happen.

“The people that we betrayed last night, they want to bring us down.” Tommy stood, trying to control the room. “They control the police,” Gwen and Johnny turned their heads to the door as they heard the coppers pounding on it from outside. “They control the judges. They control the juries. They control the jails. But they _do not_ control the elected government.” Arthur and John were screaming over Tommy, Arthur ready to throttle him. He was so close to a new life with his wife and unborn baby. So close. And Tommy was there to reel the reigns in once more. 

“We’re going to fucking hang,” Gwen muttered, only Johnny Dogs could hear her. She kept a tight hold on his hand as he rubbed the top of her’s with his other to try and calm her down. 

“No one’s hangin’. Tommy always knows what he’s doin’. You gotta trust ‘im.” His dark eyes tried to keep Gwen steady, but she was well past panic. 

“Everything I’ve done…to keep this family together…has been for nothing.” Johnny saw true fear in Gwen’s eyes for the first time in his life. “Nothing…” Johnny let go of her hand and kneeled in front of Gwen. His rough hands embraced her face gently, making sure she stayed focused on him. 

“ _Listen to me! So I’ve made a deal-_ “

“You’re going to be fine. T’is family is going to be fine. There’s always a plan. Always. If I have you get you out me’self, I will. But have faith in Tommy. Please,” Johnny begged Gwen to keep it together.

“- _In return for giving evidence-_ “

“It’s the rope for me, Johnny.” The first tear fell, shattering Johnny’s heart into pieces. “He’s killed us all.”

“- _Against them,_ ”

“We’ll fucking hang!” Arthur screamed.

“- _It’s all taken care of. Lizzie, collect all the money and bring it to the cellar. You will all get your money in due course. When the police get in, do not resist. You go with them. You do not say anything._ ” The room started to clear out, everyone running to the hallway. Gwen heard the heavy doors slam open, and the screams of the wives and the shouts of the police. Gwen brought a shaking hand up to Johnny’s cheek.

“Go, sweet Johnny. I’ll be okay.” He gave her a heartbroken smile with a nod and a tap on her cheek, then stood, kissed her forehead, and headed towards the rest of the family. Ready to be apprehended. 

“ _Arthur, I’ve made a deal with people even more powerful than our enemies-_ ” Gwen cut Tommy's reasoning off.

“When your family is gone, hung from the neck until dead, even then I still don’t think you’ll realize what you’ve done. When you have _nothing left_ but this empty fucking house, maybe you’ll see. It took _all of us_ to build this, but your actions alone have caused it to crumble into nothing.” Gwen spat as she got up from her seat. She removed her coat, setting it on the chair. She then took off her jewelry, placing the items into a lining pocket of the coat. Gwen then cooly and gracefully stepped to the hallway, hands raised. She was immediately apprehended, shoved face first against a wall, and handcuffed. She saw Finn kick at an officer, trying to get to her, but he was quickly carted off and thrown into a truck. 

Everything moved in slow motion, sound leaving Gwen. She turned her head to see Esme and Linda kicking and screaming against the police. Her brothers each pushed against a wall, two officers on each, billy clubs against their necks. Michael and Polly, compliantly held by police. Isaiah, much like Finn, caused the police as much trouble as he could. She made eye contact one last time with Johnny Dogs before he too was carted off.

Gwen was the last to be thrown into the back of the second truck with Finn, Isiah, Polly and Michael. The occupants rocked with the motion of the truck, knocking into each other in their cuffed states. Finn knocked his knee with Gwen’s, letting her know that he was next to her. 

“He’s dead to me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been writing little snippets here and there of Gwen in other episodes if anyone is interested in me posting them, or if you have something specific you want me to write regarding Gwen! I have a few Gwen x Alfie backstories written up, so let me know!
> 
> Feedback is always welcome! 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	3. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter does contain major spoilers, so fair warning. I would also like to thank everyone who has reached out to me over this story. It fills my heart with so much love to know that y'all are enjoying it! As always, I appreciate the feedback. Thank you for reading.

Gwen’s eyes shot open. Darkness consumed her bedroom as she lay in her bed, heart pounding in her chest. 

A noose, hanging in a dimly lit room. Stairs leading to Heaven. Or Hell. She could still feel the rope’s rough fibers against her neck, scratching at the delicate skin. 

Gwen brought a shaking hand to rub at the spot, wincing at the memory. It was all she could see when she closed her eyes. Polly’s mumbling and crying was all she could hear. Since she had been released just days ago, Gwen would often get flashes of her time in the cell and her time with the hangman. 

Picking up the alarm clock on her bedside table, Gwen could make out that it was nearing four in the morning. With a heavy sigh, she got up to make herself a cup of tea to start her day. 

* * *

Since Gwen's release, she hadn’t contacted anyone. And she definitely did not talk to Tommy. Not for his lack of trying, mind you. He had called and stopped by when he could, but she always hung up the telephone or just didn’t answer the door at all. Eventually, he just gave her some space and let her be. 

Gwen may not have been locked up for long, a month, but it was long enough to really do some damage. She had been a prime target in the yard by other women. The guards, as Tommy had mentioned, were paid to look the other way when she was cornered. 

A Shelby alone never survives. 

The whistle of the kettle brought Gwen out of her thoughts. 

What a lonely existence.

* * *

Gwen stepped over the stack of mail on the floor as she brought in her groceries from the car. She kicked the door shut behind her and made a mental note to pick the letters up later. 

The telephone rang just as Gwen set her groceries down in the kitchen. Ignoring it, she started putting the goods away, leaving a loaf of bread, some sliced meat and cheese out to make her lunch. The telephone rang again. Gwen once again ignored it in search of a knife to slice her bread. Just as she had sliced through the finished sandwich, the telephone rang again. Becoming incredibly irritated, Gwen slammed the knife down and stormed into the parlor.

“What.” Gwen ground into the speaker. Holding the receiver up to her ear, she could hear Tommy on the other end.

“ _Have you checked your mail?_ ” Gwen scoffed at the question.

“Don’t call here again,” She hung up the receiver, but just as she hung up, it rang again.

“I’m done talking to you, Thomas. So stop calling,” Before she could move the receiver, Tommy’s voice blasted through.

“ _Gwendolyn!_ ” Tommy shouted into the phone. “ _Check your fucking post, right now._ ” Gwen’s heart pounded at the severity in Tommy’s voice. The desperation that was seeping through. 

“I swear to god, Tommy-“

“ _I’m not fucking around,_ ”

“Fine. Fine, since you’re so worried about what my post entails, I’ll go have a look. Stay on the line.” She set the phone down and walked back to her entrance way. She picked up the dozen or so letters and started shuffling through them. She set the mail on the table with the phone and picked the receiver back up. “Alright, is there anything in particular that I should be looking for?” Gwen picked through each individual piece of postage until she came across a smaller envelope, about the size of a greeting card. 

“Huh,” She said out loud, more to herself than Tommy. The envelope had an ‘Air Mail’ stamp on in it. Where had this come from? Certainly not England if it was taken by air. “I did get something unusual, hold on,” She put the receiver down once more at Tommy’s protests. Gwen carefully opened the envelope and, unsurprising to her, there was a card inside. Opening it, Gwen’s heart fell to the floor.

##  **_From my family to yours, Merry Christmas._ **

##  **_  
_ _Sincerely,_ **

##  **_Luca Changretta & Family_ **

Alongside the greeting was a black hand.

Picking up the receiver with a shaking hand, Gwen could barely get words out coherently.

“Is…is this a _fucking joke_?”

“ _So you got it?_ ” Came Tommy’s almost sad tone.

“The black hand? Yeah I fucking got it, mate!” Gwen nearly screeched into the phone. 

“ _All of us got one. You, me, Arthur, John, Polly, Michael, probably Ada, who fucking knows. I want everyone back in Small Heath. Tonight. Family meeting.”_

* * *

“Michael, I need you to go to John’s. Grab him, Esme and the kids, bring ‘em back here.”

“John won’t listen to Michael,” Gwen piped up, swirling a glass of gin, a cigarette hanging from her lips. Gwen sat in a corner chair, kept to herself, not bothering to interact with anyone in the small house. Her snake-like eyes directed towards her older brother out of irritation more than anything else. The fact that he was breathing the same air as her was enough to piss her off. 

Since she stepped foot onto Watery Lane, Tommy had been target number one to her, taking any jab she could at him. “If he won’t listen to _you_ , what makes you think _Michael_ is going to cart him back willingly? Hm?” Tommy stared at his sister, a green and yellow fading bruise surrounding her healing broken nose and a long scar ran down the side of her face, from when she got jumped in the prison yard before her release. The remnants of two black eyes just barely visible if you looked close enough.

Gwen shot back the rest of her drink and stubbed the cigarette out in the glass, then with a heavy sigh, she stood up adjusting the waist of her trousers, and grabbed her coat. “Come on, Michael. I need to get out of this fucking house,” She said, already walking towards the door. 

“And John’ll listen to you?” Tommy called out. Without looking back at him, Gwen replied:

“He will if he knows what’s good for him.” Then disappeared out of the door.

* * *

“How have you been holding up?” Michael finally asked as he drove along the country roads to John’s house. The majority of the ride was silent up until that point. Michael and Gwen didn’t have much of a relationship, but there was respect between the two of them. Michael understood just how savvy Gwen was when it came to business, which he admired tremendously, and he also respected her place within the family. She was a natural leader, though she never took the reins for herself. That was Tommy’s job, after all. 

On the flip side, Gwen liked Michael’s tenacity when it came to making a name for himself within his new family, trying to pave a way for himself. Gwen wouldn’t go so far as to call him a protege, but he was a quick learner and an incredibly hard worker. He could be a little overzealous at times, but he put the business first and took care of Polly, and that was enough for Gwen. 

“They gave you trouble in there,” He was referring to the cut on Gwen’s face. When she had gotten out of prison, she had two black eyes, her nose was broken, and her face had been slashed from temple to jaw. It took five other women to hold her down while one brutalized her, but she made it out alive. They’d get their’s in due time.

“I had a target on my back the second I stepped foot in that place,” Gwen replied as she looked out at the passing scenery. Michael nodded. It seemed Gwen got the worst of it out of anyone during their stint in the pen.

“You also disappeared,”

“I did,”

“Why?” 

“Why did you go back to the factory so quickly?” Gwen counteracted Michael’s question with another question.

“Because _family_ is _family_ and _business_ is _business_. It keeps going even if we don’t want to,” Michael replied with a shrug. “Am I happy that I went to prison because of Tommy? No, but at the end of the day I did the things that I did, not Tommy. Tommy didn’t pull the trigger, I did. And he got us out,”

“He _sold_ us,” Gwen hissed, becoming worked up as Michael parked the car behind John’s. He turned to Gwen, cool as ever.

“And we’re _fine_ now,” He reasoned.

“Is this your definition of ‘ _fine_ ’?” Gwen got out of the car, slamming the passenger door behind her and started walking up to the house. Michael quickly got out behind her and followed Gwen. “Hello?” She called out, knowing someone would hear her. She had just walked through a gate when the sound of a rifle cocking stopped her in her tracks. Michael stopped short behind her. Coming out of a side door, rifle pointed directly at Gwen, was John and one of the dogs.

“Ah, fuck,” John mumbled before lowering the gun, putting the safety on. “Got nothing better to do on Christmas Morning?”

“Grab Esme. Grab the kids. We’re going to Small Heath. Merry Fucking Christmas, John,” Gwen barked before starting to make her way to the main entrance of the house, John and Michael following in tow.

“Good fucking morning to you, too,” John spat at his sister.

“Tommy wants everybody at Charlie’s yard now, come on.” Michael tried to mediate, but John just scoffed.

“What’s going to happen, man? It’s fucking Christmas,”

“Didn’t you hear, John? The Italians don’t take a fucking holiday off from their vendettas,” Gwen shot back sarcastically. “We don’t have time for this. The sooner everyone is together, the safer we will all be, yeah? So grab your wife, grab your kids, and get a fucking move on,” Gwen left no room for argument, but John was John and if he didn’t want to do something, he was not going to budge. 

“-Just come to the meeting,” Michael tried to negotiate.

“Come in the house, have some food-“ John spoke over Michael. Just as John turned the knob to the front door, Esme came flying out, immediately getting into Gwen’s face.

“You tell Tommy Shelby that we can look after ourselves,” Esme spat. Gwen’s patience with her brother’s family was wearing very thin, and her patience for Esme to begin with was next to non-existent. Seeing the look on his sister’s face, John pulled Esme by the shoulder, creating room between the women.

“I’m not any happier than you are with Tommy right now, but the next time you come at me me like that, Esme, I will show you firsthand just how well you can ‘take care of yourself’,” Gwen spoke calmly, though her voice had a bit of edge to it. 

“Tommy said that they could come for us today,” Michael once again tried to speak reason. Esme turned her wrath to Michael.

“Tommy says, Tommy says, are you his fucking parrot?” Esme got into Michael’s face just as she had to Gwen. Having enough of the woman, Gwen turned her around, pointing a finger in her face. 

“Listen very fucking closely, Esme. This is the New York fucking Mafia. Alright? This is something that we are not privy to dealing with, do you fucking understand what I’m telling you?”

“Yeah, and we’re the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders,” John, ever the broken record, kept his stance, gun over his shoulder, as arrogant as ever. 

“No we’re not, John. We’re not the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders if we are not together.” Michael spat. 

“You were in the gallows with one man missing,” Esme snarled. Gwen ignored her, but she didn’t give up trying to sway John.

“You and Esme want to die in this fucking house, that’s your prerogative, but do not leave those children vulnerable because you’re too fucking stubborn to see reason. Pack a fucking bag, get those kids in the fucking car, and get them to Charlie’s fucking yard, do you understand?”

“John, if you want to leave after the meeting, then fine, but-“ Gwen tuned out as she turned around, taking a deep breath before she had to really had to knock some sense into her dimwit of a brother. 

A horse-drawn wagon at the entrance to John’s yard from the street caught Gwen’s attention. It was stopped, a wagon of hay the only thing visible, but a switch snapped in Gwen’s brain just as the heads of three men popped up, and before words could make it out of her mouth, she turned and started pushing everyone towards the house.

“Get back inside! Get inside!” Gwen screamed to Esme just as everything seemed to move in slow motion. As Gwen turned to grab onto Michael, the first rounds of the Tommy gun went off. Gwen felt fire go through her shoulder and another bolt of lightning through her waist. She fell to the ground, rolling for cover behind the patio furniture, gasping and grasping at the wounds. 

Esme’s screams deafened Gwen as the final shots faded. Breathing heavily, Gwen bit her lips in pain as she got to her knees behind the stone wall of the patio, holding a hand against the bleeding hole in her side. Peaking her head up, she saw the hay wagon rolling away from the entrance of the driveway, taking the assassins with it. 

Gwen spotted John’s hunting rifle mere feet from her, and without hesitation -almost as if she had tunnel vision- she grabbed it and started running. 

“You call two ambulances and then you call Tommy! Right fucking now, Esme! Right fucking now!” Gwen screamed to her sister-in-law as she willed her feet to keep her moving. 

Esme was trying to hold her hands to John’s wound. who had since stopped breathing. Blood spat out of his mouth as he tried to say something to his wife, but just as quickly, he was gone. 

“Where are you going? John needs fucking help! _You can’t leave us!_ ” Esme was frantic as she held onto her husband, blood covering her arms and face. Esme began screaming in Romani, cradling John. 

“He doesn’t have time, Esme! Get them here _now_!”

Gwen checked to make sure the rifle was loaded and the safety was off before she pulled the lever and picked up speed. The burning pain she felt all over her body was nearly unbearable, but she couldn’t just stand by while they got away. Her baby brother had just been murdered before her very eyes, and she didn’t know if Michael was even alive. As long as she still drew breath, these assailants were going to die. Right here, right now. 

Gwen took cover behind the thick shrubs and wide fence post as the wagon slowly rolled down the narrow dirt road, the horseshoes clip-clopping without a care. The men weren’t in a rush. As far as they were concerned, they just eliminated three targets in one go. 

Kneeling, Gwen took a deep breath before swiftly moving around the thick fence post and lining up her sights. The man walking with the horse fell in a heap onto the ground after a loud crack echoed in the air. The white horse startled, but righted itself soon after. 

The men in the back jolted with the stop of the wagon, but were immediately on high alert. 

Gwen watched and when the men were squabbling with each other, she ran across the road and into the trees. Letting the greenery camouflage her, she took her time, lining up the perfect shot. 

Gwen took a deep breath, then exhaled. 

Another loud crack sounded. 

A man fell off the side of the wagon and into the foliage on the side of the road as the side of his head exploded. The surprise of her attack was Gwen’s advantage and she did not let it go to waste. 

While the other two men in the back tried to reload their guns and take cover, trying figure out where the shooter was, she took another shot, this time going through the second man’s neck. He dropped his gun and clutched at his throat and then fell lifeless, face first into the hay. 

The last man standing shot his Tommy gun in every direction, spraying bullets in Gwen’s direction. She leaned behind a thick tree as her shield. The bullets splintered the wood, but Gwen kept her ground. 

Gwen could feel herself becoming lightheaded, dizzy from the trickling blood loss, but the adrenaline kept her going. 

When the spray of bullets stopped and she could hear the clicking of the man frantically reloading, Gwen came out of the trees, walking confidently towards the final man who, upon seeing her, was immediately spitting Italian at her, cursing her, she was sure. John’s rifle was aimed at the man, unrelenting. Gwen just wanted him to get a good look at her. 

Before he had the chance to raise the gun up once more, Gwen took her shot, catching her target straight between the eyes. The man’s brains sprayed across the back of the white horse, who whinnied and neighed, stomping its feet, but not moving without its master’s command. 

Gwen brought the rifle down, breathing heavily as she looked at the carnage. Her balance suddenly waned, making Gwen stumble and grasp at the back of the wagon to keep her upright.

Blood rushed in Gwen’s ears as she went to each body, save for the first man, and ripped each identical gold cross off of their necks, stuffing them into her pockets. 

Trying to keep herself from falling, she used the hedges as a guide to let her back to the house, where the only thing that could be heard was Michael’s groaning for help. 

Stumbling her way down the stone path to the house, Gwen fell near Michael, trying to catch her breath. Michael gasped, trying to grab onto Gwen’s hands that were quickly assessing the damage. She could feel him getting weaker by the second. His vibrant eyes fluttered for a moment before they closed. Gwen slapped his face a few times, trying to get a response.

“Michael, keep your fucking eyes open! Do you hear me? You keep them open!” Michael nodded in a daze, not quite understanding. The four shots to his torso were bleeding quite rapidly. Gwen took her coat off, minding the shot to her shoulder, and held it to his body, trying to put pressure on the wounds. 

“ _Esme!_ ” Gwen yelled to her sister-in-law, who was nowhere to be seen. 

“ _They’re on their way! They’re on their way!_ ” Gwen heard Esme shout from inside of the house, her voice thick with tears, trying to get the kids away from the door where their father was slain. 

Gwen got a look at John for the first time and almost lost consciousness at the sight. His body was riddled with bullet wounds, too many to count, with blood pooled around him, molding into the crevices of the stones. Tears welled in her eyes, but there was nothing she could do for John now. Keeping Michael alive was her main focus. 

Gwen could hear the sound of tires spinning in the gravel of the driveway behind the house and faint sirens of the ambulances down the road.


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the feedback I've received! The outpouring of love for this goes beyond what I could've ever imagined. Thank you for reading.

_Gwen’s ears rang._

_Her body started to feel numb, cold. Her vision was getting dark around the edges. It felt like her body and mind were disconnected because as much as she tried to keep pressure on Michael’s body, she felt her arms give out and she slumped over his legs._

_The sounds of many feet running echoed between the stone walls, but all Gwen could hear was the pulsing of her slowing heartbeat as she caught glimpses up at the gray sky. ‘The last thing I’ll see,” she thought, letting her eyes slip shut._

_“John!” Tommy shouted from the back entrance, the same one that Michael and Gwen had gone through initially, searching for his siblings. “Gwen! Michael!”_

_“Tommy!” Esme screamed from the patio, alerting Tommy to their location, running to Gwen as she saw her body go completely limp._

_Dozens of armed men flooded the yard, surrounding the house, as Tommy slid to a stop over Michael and Gwen. Fury and flames whipped in Esme’s eyes as she turned to Tommy._

_“He’s gone! He’s fucking gone! You did this! You killed him!” Esme tackled him, screaming and pounding her fists into his chest with as much strength as she could. Tommy held her at an arm’s length, motioning for two men to take her from him, and brought her back into the house._

_“Gwen?” Tommy patted her cheeks. She wasn’t responding, but he could feel her pulse as he checked her neck. Michael groaned at the movement. “Michael? Michael you stay awake. The ambulances are here, can you hear me?” Tommy spoke as calmly as he could, trying to gain any sign of life from Gwen. Her entire blouse was drenched, the blood turning the once rose pink silk a now nearly purple color._

_Tommy could make out a hole torn into her shoulder, and upon further inspection, found another where the hem of her trousers hugged her waist._

_More men rushed into the yard, all four wearing white uniforms with red crosses on their left biceps. Each pair carried a stretcher between them as they ran. The men immediately dropped the stretchers to the ground and loaded Gwen and Michael onto each. Tommy rose with them, watching as they were carted away, bloody hands holding onto the top of his head._

_Tears sprang to Tommy’s eyes as he turned, seeing John, lifeless on the ground. Never had his brother been silent, and now, the silence would last for eternity._

_Finn, running, came to a stop, out of breath. He looked down at John, his breath catching in his throat. He looked over to Tommy. Chest heaving, Tommy pulled Finn to him, hugging his baby brother as if his life depended on it._

_“Mr. Shelby, we found four dead in the road,” A blinder said, pointing to the wagon in the road. “Three Italian.”_

* * *

_Gwen came to in the ambulance, groaning in pain and complaining about how cold she was. Her teeth chattered and her body shook. A thick blanket was draped over her once the attendant applied gauze to her wounds, packing them to try to stop the bleeding. Warmth flooding back to Gwen, she closed her eyes once more, the rocking of the truck lulling her into what she had imagined was her eternal sleep._

_The first thing Gwen heard upon rousing from unconsciousness were the screams and shouts from Polly. Fluorescent lights above her were disorienting as she was quickly rolled down the hallway of the hospital._

_“Wher-“ Gwen couldn’t form a single word. Her tongue felt heavy and her mouth felt dry. She tried to move her head to the side to figure out what was happening, but couldn’t muster the strength. Two women, nurses, started cutting along Gwen’s blouse and trousers to get to the wounds. She let out a gut-wrenching groan, her eyes watering at the pain that seemed to only mount onto itself._

_“Gwen!” Finn’s shouted were heard above the noise, but Gwen’s eyes couldn’t seem to focus, much less find her baby brother in all the madness flooding through the hallway._

_Gwen could hear Michael’s shouts of pain above all else._

_“Please! Can we get some help in here?!” Came a shout as Michael and Gwen were pushed into two neighboring rooms._

* * *

_“You’re lucky. Both shots passed clean through,” Was the first thing out of Tommy’s mouth as Gwen opened her eyes. He sat next to the bed, cigarette hanging from his fingers. Gwen tried to sit up, but was quickly pushed back. “You need to rest,”_

_“I need to get out of this fucking hospital is what I need to do,” Gwen pushed Tommy’s arm away with her free hand, the other arm -her injured one- was held in a sling to her chest. She could feel the stitches in her shoulder and waist pull taut as she tried to maneuver her way out of the bed._

_“You want to leave tomorrow, fine, but you’re staying the night.” His voice was firm and his eyes were unwavering._

_“Well, what the fuck is that?” Gwen motioned to the large arrangement of flowers sitting on the table next to her bed. Tommy reached over and plucked the card out, handing it to Gwen._

**_My deepest condolences to my dearest Gwendolyn._ **

**_‘There is no beginning without an end.’_ **

**_-A_ **

_“Who sent it?”_

_“Who do you think?” Gwen, though slightly touched by Alfie’s gesture, knew it was less than genuine. If anything, she knew Alfie was doing a little jig at the thought of one less Shelby terrorizing the streets. She waved her hand, dismissing the topic altogether, and tossed the card onto her lap._

_Tommy reached into his pocket and pulled out the three gold crosses, hanging from their chains. “The nurse pulled these from your pocket before they tossed your clothes,” He laid them on the white card. “I need to know what happened.”_

_Gwen stared at Tommy, her brow creasing as she turned to look down at the crosses. Flashes passed through her mind, recollections. Tommy watched the emotions pass through his sisters eyes, her gaunt face paling even more than it already was._

_“We were ambushed. Out on the patio. There were men in the back of a hay wagon. John was arguing with Michael and I about not going to Small Heath,” Gwen’s right eye gave a twitch. “I tried to get them back, but it happened so quickly.” Gwen’s voice cracked. Tears started to slide down Gwen’s face as she looked straight on towards the door. She could make out two Blinders just outside the window. “I fell first,” Gwen clenched her eyes shut, bringing her free hand to rest over the wound in her torso. “I don’t know what happened after that, but by the time the shooting stopped, Michael and John were on the ground.” Gwen took a deep breath. “I…I didn’t even think. I just grabbed John’s rifle and I ran after them.” Gwen’s bottom lip wobbled as a sob tried to break its way out. She looked down in guilt, “I shouldn’t have. I should’ve stayed. Maybe John would be alive if I had stayed.” The deep breaths she took to quell the sobs pulled at her stitches, but the pain kept her grounded._

_Tommy brought his hand to rest over her’s, a show of comfort that was foreign to both feuding siblings._

_“You killed them?” Gwen licked her lips in thought and nodded._

_“All of them.” She looked back over to Tommy. “I want a message sent.”_

_“Charlie is sending them up the river as we speak.”_

* * *

Finn helped Gwen lower into a chair at the betting house table where the rest of the family sat or stood in silence, mourning. Her stitches pulled, and she held her breath as she met the seat, then gave a breathy exhale, quietly thanking Finn, who stood behind her -ever vigilant.

Johnny Dogs came over to her, dressed in his best black suit, and gave her a kiss to the top of her head. She brought a hand up, giving his arm a quick squeeze, then let him go back to his place in the corner of the small room in the betting house on Watery Lane.

Gwen tried to adjust her sling, getting as comfortable as she could with it before just giving up and sitting back in the chair. Arthur leaned over Linda to grab Gwen’s hand that was resting on the table and gave it a squeeze. He nodded at her, mouth in a tight line; she gave a nod back.

Tommy’s footsteps echoed in the house, getting everyone’s attention as he entered the room.

“John is dead,” Gwen’s heart gave a painful squeeze. Her jaw clenched tightly, painfully at the thought was spoken out loud. Tommy took a deep, shaky breath, then continued. “Esme’s gone on the road with the Lee’s. She’s taken the kids. Gwen, as expected, fled the hospital the first chance she got against doctor’s orders,” Tommy’s gaze directed to his sister, giving her the third degree without actually giving her the third degree. Gwen’s tight expression never left her face. “Michael’s badly wounded, they say it is 60/40 in his favor.” Gwen shut her eyes. She knew he was in a bad way, but not this bad. Polly started rambling about a hand and speaking to someone, but Gwen had learned to stop paying attention to her Aunt as of recent.

“Michael, Gwen, and John were shot because we killed someone,” Gwen and Arthur looked down at the table, both feeling the massive weight of what Tommy was saying, though it wasn’t anything new to either of them. “Vicente Changretta. His son Luca has come to take revenge. Men from New York and Sicily are here in Birmingham. These men will not leave the city until our whole family is dead. That’s how it works, an eye for an eye. It’s called ‘Vendetta’.” Tommy looked over to Gwen as he continued, “Gwen took out the men responsible for killing John and injuring Michael and herself. Three of them. An act of bravery that will never be forgotten amongst this family. Those men have been sent to the city as a message.”

“Yeah, well,” Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out a bullet. “The bullet’s been written. It says ‘Luca’. When the time comes -and it will come- me as the oldest brother, will put this bullet into his fucking head.” Arthur put the bullet on the table, the whole family looking on.

“I know there’s been bad blood between us,” Gwen and Polly both let out sardonic laughs. Gwen scoffed, glaring at Tommy, while Polly continued to laugh.

“Polly, please,” Arthur tried to quiet her, but much like Gwen, she just looked straight on to Tommy. Tommy looked up, trying to keep his cool, as the women dismissed him.

“Until this business is settled, we stay together. We stay here. Small Heath, Bordesley, Hay Mills down to Greet. We know every face. Every man here is a soldier in this army. These men are professionals and they’re good at what they do, so we’re gonna need more than we have. I’ve sent a message to Aberama Gold.” This caused Johnny Dogs to speak up for the first time, shaking his head.

“No. No, Tom.” Gwen turned to look at the man who was slowly getting riled up just at the thought of the Gold family. “I’ll get you 50 Lee boys. Good men, Tom.”

“We don’t need good men, Johnny.” Gwen spoke up as she slowly stood from the table with Finn’s help. She walked over to Johnny and patted his chest. “For this, we need bad men. They’re all going to die anyway,” Gwen mocked. Johnny Dogs looked between the two siblings. Gwen walked over to the counter to pour herself a drink.

“Tommy, his people are fucking savages! You know, _heathens_ , Tom. They don’t even let them in the fair, so they come and steal our horses! You know, stealing from their own, Tom!” Johnny Dogs was beside himself.

“So, this is the plan, Tommy?” Gwen spoke, challenging Tommy, and taking a drink before continuing, “Bullet with a name on it, help from a bunch of savages?”

“We’re gonna go on the offensive,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “I’ve spoken to Moss,” Polly scoffed again, “I’ve spoken to Moss and he is putting the word out. Eyes and ears so we can find them. So, here -today- in this room, we have to agree to end this war between us,” Tommy looked to Polly, then to Gwen.

“Offensive? Moss?” Gwen questioned and scoffed once more. She set her drink down, “We are cornered like rats in our own pocket of the fucking world, Tommy, guns raised and hoping to live to see another day.” She spat.

“We don’t have a choice! We stick together and attack them before they get the chance to bounce back and strike again,” Tommy shouted back at her. Gwen stalked up to him, pointing a finger.

“No,” Gwen spat, “We _did_ have a choice, and _you_ made the wrong one. And now _John is dead_. Our brother is _dead_.” Gwen ground out, “How many more wrong choices are you going to make at the cost of our lives? Hm? For fucking what?!” Arthur stood, walking over to grab his sister, but she waved him off with her free hand. “What did John die for, Tommy? Can you answer that?”

“That’s enough, Gwendolyn,” Arthurs deep voice tried to break them up once more.

“No, Arthur. _Why_ is Michael fighting for his life, Tommy? _Why_ was _I_ nearly fucking bled out in an ambulance, Tommy? _Why_ was my fucking little brother bleeding to death outside of his own fucking house -in front of his _wife_ and _children_ \- on Christmas fucking Day, _Tommy_?” This was a side of Gwendolyn that the family hadn’t truly seen. She wasn’t afraid to argue with Tommy in family meetings, but to straight out go against him in front of everyone was unheard of.

It was disrespectful to the established hierarchy.

“I’ll tell you why,” Gwen continued, twisting the knife as far as it would go, “You went down a dizzying self-destructive spiral and spun so quickly that you couldn’t see past your own grief and your own sorrow, and you couldn’t pull yourself up far enough out of that black pit in your skull to realize that the choices you made not only affected you, but this whole fucking family!” Gwen gave him one last look, “And you know who’s paid the ultimate price? _John_. I’m _done_ listening to you,” Then she took off out of the betting house.

Tommy stood there for a moment, everyone looking at him. He blinked a few times, then muttered for Finn to follow her.

* * *

Gwen stood next to Johnny Dogs as flames grew underneath John’s vardo. Johnny had an arm wrapped around her shoulder, hugging her into his side, trying to comfort the grieving woman. Gwen took deep breaths as she allowed herself to finally mourn over her fallen brother.

“This is how John wanted to go,” Tommy spoke. Gwen could feel her blood pressure rising with each word.

“Aye, gunned down like a fucking dog,” Gwen spat under her breath. Arthur, who stood next to Tommy, gave Gwen a sharp look. Finn shushed her, grabbing her hand and squeezing in comfort. Gwen tuned out Tommy’s speech and just stared at the burning wagon.

John was truly gone, never to come back. Gwen would more than likely never see her nieces and nephews again either. As far as she knew, all ties to John were gone.

Once Tommy was done speaking, he walked back into the group with Arthur and silently watched the flames grow higher and higher.

The echo of a gunshot startled the funeral procession, causing everyone to duck. Gwen fell to the ground, Johnny and Finn covering her with their guns raised. Gwen screamed as she felt the stitches in her side tear open, and then the warmth of blood trickling and seeping into her black silk blouse.

“Hold your fire!” Tommy shouted as men started pointing their guns in all directions, “Do not return fire! I repeat, do not return fire! Stand down! The men doing the firing are on our side,”

Gwen groaned as she tried to stand. Her legs wobbled from the pain of the reopened wound and Johnny caught her before she could fall once more, gun still at the ready.

“Gwendolyn?” He asked, worried over the look on her face when he noticed her holdin onto her side.

“Poppe my fucking stitches,” Gwen hissed, pain taking over her face.

“I took the trouble of getting an invitation to Aberama Gold,” Tommy explained to the group.

“Ah fuck,” Johnny sighed, “Now it’s begun,” Gwen let Johnny hold onto her to keep her steady as she directed her fury, once more, at Tommy, once she realized what was happening.

“You know what, Tom? Fuck you! You put us out in the open on purpose,” Gwen spat as she held onto her side. She felt the slick blood on her fingers. “This is John’s fucking funeral, you obtuse prick! and you used the fire as a fucking beacon,” Polly’s eyes widened as she caught on to what her niece was saying.

“You were never in any danger,” Arthur tried to settle Gwen.

“Finn! Finn, go to the yard and light the fires,” Finn nodded and took off as instructed.

“You set a trap! You set a trap and used us as fucking bait!” Polly accused, stomping over to Tommy. “Who’s dead?” Polly pointed in the direction a procession of people on horses were coming from.

“Our enemies,”

“Don’t be surprised, Pol, we’re all expendable here.” Gwen said, anger overtaking her. Johnny started pulling Gwen to the table that Polly sat down at just moments ago.

“Come now,” Johnny coaxed her. Gwen hissed as she sat while Johnny grabbed a semi-clean cloth from the table. Ada also made her way over, noticing what was happening with her sister.

  
“Let’s have a look,” She moved Gwen’s hand and untucked her blouse from her pressed trousers. Gwen’s skin was already sticky with blood as the angry, inflamed wound was still leaking at a trickle. Johnny handed Ada the cloth and she pressed it to the wound.

“Fuck!” Gwen shouted and bit on her knuckles. This attracted the attention of the newcomers, as well as some of the funeral procession. Gwen was seeing stars as Ada continued to apply pressure. Johnny Dogs kneeled to the side of Gwen, remorse and guilt heavy on his face.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Gwendolyn. Had I known we weren’t in actual danger, I wouldn’t’ve sent ya to the ground like I did, but I had to make sure you weren’t going to get shot. Again.” Gwen took deep breaths through her nose, biting down on her lips to stop from screaming again as Ada moved the cloth to inspect the stitches.

“You’re going to need to get this restitched,” Ada’s voice was drowned out by Polly as two men on horseback, followed by two more men with dead men on top of their horses, came into the camp. The men surveyed the situation, immediately feeling the tension that seemed to weigh heavily on the family.

Both men on the horses watched on with interest. The older man had a knowing smirk on his face while the other, much younger in a bowler hat, stared at Ada and Gwen when his gaze went from person to person. His face flushed at Gwen’s exposed skin, but his thick brows immediately furrowed when he saw the blood. No one else seemed distressed at her situation, so the young man stayed sat on the horse, but kept watch.

“You used your own brother’s funeral,” Polly shamed Tommy, as well as Arthur, with the statement. “When did we vote on this, Tommy?” She pointed to everyone, Gwen included.

“Curly,” Tommy dismissed Polly’s question, “Get the boats ready and take the bodies to the city. And another boat for anyone,” He looked over to Gwen, “Anyone who wants no more part in this,” He shouted. “Cause this is how it’s gonna be!” Polly walked away, ignoring him as he ignored her. “Polly!” Tommy called after the woman. Linda followed next, Arthur yelling at her and following her as she stalked back to their car.

Gwen took a deep breath as Johnny helped her from her seat. Ada helped pull her blouse back down her torso and held the towel under her shirt until Gwen could keep a hold on it. Johnny held an arm around her shoulders, careful of the other wound, and helped her start the walk back to her car.

“Gwen?” Tommy snapped. Gwen turned, taking Johnny with her. Her arm being in a sling threw her equilibrium off quite a bit. The man in the bowler watched on curiously, as well as who Gwen assumed was Aberama Gold from the other horse.

“Oh, do I need permission to go back to the _fucking hospital_? Hm? I need to get re-stitched because of you and your mercenaries, ya fucking pricks,” Gwen snapped, looking at all three men. She could feel the pride from Johnny behind her as she spat at the Golds. Aberama’s brows raised up to his hairline while the younger man’s face just blushed harder. “And you’ve sent my driver off to do god knows what, so I’m taking _Johnny_ with me because I clearly can’t drive my fucking self,” She motioned to the sling, “Now can I?” Gwen turned back around at Tommy’s protests, flipping him the bird as she slowly made it back to the car with Johnny.


	5. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

“A word?” Tommy looked up from his desk at the betting house. Gwen stood in the doorway to his office at the betting house.

“You talking to me now?”

“I’ve been talking for a while. You just haven’t listened.” Gwen sat in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk and lit a cigarette.

“I’m very busy,”

“Of course you are,” Gwen dismissed. “You want a truce between us or not?”

“For the sake of us not being picked off one by one by the fucking Italians, yes I would like a truce.” Gwen stares at Tommy, hard and unrelenting, before giving him a nod.

“Then you’re going to listen to what I have to say,”

“This should be good,” Tommy took a swig of his rum and rolled his eyes.

“See, this is the shit I’m talking about! What went wrong between us, Tommy? When has any guidance, any advice I’ve given you been to your _detriment_? Hm? When has any trigger I’ve pulled been to your _detriment_? What happened that caused you to lose trust in my judgement? To just throw what I have to say to the wayside? To feel like you need to do this alone? Because this goes deeper than the loss of Grace,” Tommy sat in thought, and took his spectacles off. He rubbed at the bags under his eyes.

“You’re right,” He acquiesced.

“Don’t patronize me,”

“I’m not. What you said in the family meeting before John’s funeral -you were right. When Grace died I was hellbent in making everyone pay and I wouldn’t listen to reason. I couldn’t. And now I see that all of this could’ve gone in a different direction, but this is where we’re at now.”

“Then consider this a truce, but I do have one condition.” Tommy sighed, waiting to hear his sister’s demand. “This shit, this going behind my back with things like the fucking Golds, it ends now. No more scheming, no more secrets. We go back to how things were and we do this as a family. Me and you, Tommy. We talk. We figure things out, together. We clue Arthur and Polly in when they need to be, and we stay a unit. I’ve already lost one brother; I don’t want to lose another.” It felt like a weight was lifted off of Gwen’s chest when Tommy reached his hand over his desk. Gwen rested her in his, and shook.

“I’ll be back in the factory tomorrow morning.”

* * *

Walking through the factory for the first time in over two months -since she was arrested, really,- felt liberating to Gwen. With nothing but her thoughts at home, keeping her prisoner in her own mind, she was going stir-crazy. Gwen’s wounds were healing nicely after the hiccup at John’s funeral. Johnny Dogs still apologized every time he saw her since. The sling was now gone, but the soreness stayed. Nothing a bit of morphine couldn’t kick.

Gwen also hadn’t seen hide, nor hair, of Alfie -which wasn’t unusual, given their flighty relationship to one another- but still, it scratched at the back of Gwen’s mind.

The irony of the factory setting being like a breath of fresh air was not lost on Gwen.

“Niall, tell Clarissa that I want a list of today’s appointments on my desk within the next fifteen minutes.” Gwen instructed to the factory’s floor manager as she passed him, a stunned look on his face. He stuttered for a moment, then nodded.

“Right away, Miss Shelby,” Seeming to remember a lost thought, Niall quickly caught up with Gwen. “Miss Shelby! One more thing! It’s very important,” Gwen stopped and turned for the man. He caught up to her and got close, keeping his voice low. “There have been rumblings that there’s going to be a walk out this afternoon. I’ve tried to warn Mr. Shelby, but he won’t listen to me,”

“A walk out?”

“Yes, Miss. We’ve had trouble with a Communist woman coming in here having meetings with Mr. Shelby, threatening to blow her whistle. She’s quite the handful and very persistent,” Gwen thought a moment, looking up at the panicked man, then nodded.

“Very well. In the event of a walk-out, I want a list of every man and woman who leaves their station in protest in my hands by the time you leave today. Is that understood? _In my hands._ ” Niall nodded, relief showing on his face that someone was finally listening to his warnings. “And Niall,” Gwen called out. The man turned mid step, “Not a word of this,” He nodded.

“Understood,”

* * *

Gwen unlocked the door to her office and stood in the doorway. Everything was just as she left it. Walking in and closing the door behind her, Gwen got herself comfortable at her desk and started sifting through the paperwork that was now obsolete. A quick series of knocks sounded against the glass window of the door.

“Come in,” Gwen’s voice carried. The door opened to reveal her secretary, who poked her head in before fully opening the door and striding in.

“Welcome back, Ms. Shelby, and I give my deepest condolences for John’s passing,” The young woman greeted with a sad smile on her face, holding her hand to her heart. “His presence has been missed across the factory,”

Clarissa Stanton, prior to the last two months, had been Gwen’s secretary since the opening of the factory. The bubbly young woman was punctual, professional, and she knew how to keep her mouth shut.

And she didn’t so much as think about fraternizing with any of the Shelby men. She valued her employment and respected Gwen’s authority too much.

Clarissa gently laid the day’s schedule down on Gwen’s desk, along with the appropriate files she’d need for the various meetings that were scheduled. She stood patiently, hands clasped behind her back, waiting for direction from Gwen.

“Thank you,” Gwen responded, returning the sad smile, with regards to the young woman bringing up her sympathies for the loss of John. The names that corresponded with the appointments were all familiar to Gwen, with the exception of one -the last appointment of the day. “Who is this...Laurent Pan?” Gwen read over the file, listening to the secretary’s explanation.

“He’s coming from France to discuss a shipment of automobiles over the Channel. He was initially scheduled to see Mr. Shelby, but now that you’re back, I’ve taken the liberty of moving him to your schedule, as per screening protocol. I just have to let Mr. Shelby know that some of his appointments for today are no longer necessary.” Gwen had to admit, Clarissa was a very valuable employee, to Gwen at least. She was always a step ahead, making Gwen’s job as simple as it could be. She made a note in her desk pad about a future raise for the girl.

“Anything else I need to know?” Gwen lit a cigarette.

“No, but if anything comes up, I will be sure to let you know,” Gwen nodded, dismissing Clarissa to return to her tasks. Gwen looked up at the clock that hung in the wall over the door, 7:45am.

* * *

“Miss Shelby, Mr. Shelby is asking for you on the show floor,” Niall requested as he poked his head into Gwen’s office.

“For what business?”

“He’s requested that I bring rope and a bell down. And you as well,” Gwen stood from her desk and briskly walked past Niall. ‘ _What the hell is he up to now?_ ’ She thought.

Gwen made her way down the hallway lined with offices and to the catwalk that led to the ground floor stairway. She spotted Arthur, then Tommy, and she recognized Aberama Gold. Face painted into a scowl, Gwen made her way downstairs and directly to Tommy. The sound of heels clicking onto the concrete floors made every man turn to her.

“This isn’t a boxing ring,” Gwen stated. Her hands were buried in the pockets of her black trousers, creme colored blouse tucked into the high waist, as she walked up to the group.

“In a few minutes, it will be.” Tommy stated as he took a puff.

“Gwenny, girl, it’s good to see you back in the thick of things,” Arthur brought his sister in for a hug, and giving her a big kiss on the top of her head.

“Thank you, Arthur,” She turned back to Tommy. “Now would you be so kind as to tell me what the bloody hell you’re doing? During working hours?”

“Miss Shelby, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of officially meeting,” Aberama spoke up. Gwen turned to the man, who had his hand held out.

“Gwendolyn, this is Aberama and Bonnie Gold. Aberama, Bonnie, this is Gwen.” Gwen sized both men up. “Gwen is an _Executive Partner_ of Shelby Company Limited.” Gwen shook Aberama’s hand out of politeness, then moved to shake his son’s hand.

Bonnie’s face developed a deep blush at the contact. A small smirk passed Gwen’s features at the effect she seemingly had on the lad.

Neither Aberama nor Bonnie were unpleasant to look at -Bonnie more so attractive than his father- but Johnny Dog’s words kept echoing in Gwen’s head ‘ _They’re_ ** _savages_** _, Tom!’_

“If you’ll all excuse me for a moment. Bonnie, with me,” Tommy cut between Gwen and Aberama, Bonnie Gold on his tail. He tipped his bowler hat to Gwen and headed down the walkway to the assembly portion of the factory, leaving Gwen and Arthur to play nice with Aberama.

“Beauty and brains? A lethal combination for a woman,” Aberama’s raspy voice said playfully -gauging Gwen. Gwen gave a less than genuine smile at the comment. “I’ve heard that you’re also quite the sharp-shooter, Miss Shelby. Took two bullets, but shot down three men by yourself in recent memory,”

“It was four men, actually.” She corrected with a shrug, “Why let the men have all the fun?” Aberama stared at her, neither blinking, before Arthur stepped in.

“Tommy should be back in a minute or two. I’m going to start taking wagers,” Gwen nodded and the eldest Shelby was off shouting the odds to the men of the factory. Aberama moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Gwen.

“My boy is magic. He has his father’s strength and his mother’s temper.” He stated, looking at Tommy, Bonnie, and Billy Mills come from the assembly plant. “Do you know of boxing, Miss Shelby?”

“I do, not much, but I have been to a match here and there,” Aberama raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“A jack of all trades?” Gwen shook her head.

“No, I know a man in Camden who has a fighter. Not my taste,”

“I guarantee, once you’ve seen him, Bonnie will leave nothing to be desired. This is what he was born to do,” Bonnie and Billy entered the ring, going into opposite corners. Aberama left Gwen to join his son and Tommy came back to stand with Gwen at the side of the ring. There was excitement brewing amongst the men, but Gwen kept an eye out, always on alert.

Aberama helped Bonnie take off his jacket and shirt in preparation, leaving the younger Gold in his undershirt, trousers, and suspenders. Aberama placed worn gloves on Bonnie’s hands and tied them tight at the wrist.

“This sounds like a less than fair fight.” Gwen stated as she looked from the hulking figure of Billy Mills, to the smaller Bonnie Gold. Bonnie had muscle definition, there was not doubt about that, but he was no Billy Mills.

“Who would you bet on?” Tommy asked Gwen, his eyes never leaving the men in the ring.

“The obvious answer would be Mills, but…” Tommy turned his head to look at Gwen.

“But what?”

“But I’m curious. Aberama wouldn’t put his son in there in front of you unless he was 100% confident,” Tommy nodded.

“ _I’ll give you good odds on the boy, and even better odds on the big lad!_ ”

Bonnie looked over to Tommy and Gwen. Gwen noticed a confidence that she hadn’t seen earlier from him. He didn’t blush as he held eye contact with her. In fact, he seemed to puff his chest out a bit. Bonnie gave the pair a nod and a slight pull of a smile Gwen’s way.

“The boy’s sweet on you,” Gwen gave her brother a side eye and bumped his shoulder with hers.

“Stop,” Tommy shrugged, a glint in his eyes that Gwen hadn’t seen in a long time.

“He is. I doubt he was looking at _me_ that way,” Gwen gave him a playful smack to the arm. The men were putting the final preparations in place when Tommy spoke up again.

“Aberama tried to make a deal,” Tommy looked back down at his sister.

“A deal?” Gwen’s curiosity got the better of her.

“With his son,” Gwen’s brows furrowed as she glared at the elder Gold in the ring, who had his back to her. She caught Bonnie’s eyes meet hers, but he quickly looked away in embarrassment at being caught.

“If this is going to ruin the rest of my day, then I’d rather not know,”

“I told him that I couldn’t sell one of my Executive Partners,” Gwen scoffed, crossing her arms, “But I did tell him that I’d plant the seed and if anything happened to bloom, well,” Tommy shrugged.

“He’s very young,” Tommy shook his head.

“Not that young. Twenty-three. Same age difference between you and Solomons,”

“That is entirely different,”

“Is it?” Gwen turned her body to face Tommy.

“Alfie so much as catches wind that this boy is sniffing around me and it will not end well for him.” She motioned to Bonnie with a nod of her head. “And then it’ll start another war between you two prats and that’s the last thing we need,”

“Let’s see how you feel after the fight, hm?”


	6. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re goin’ HAM ladies and gentlemen. Cartoon heart-eyes commence in T-Minus 3…2…1…

Bonnie blocked many hits, and was quick on his feet against the lumbering Billy Mills, but he wasn’t getting very many hits in himself. And he was also -unsurprisingly- taking a beating from the much larger man.

After the fifth or sixth hit on Bonnie, Arthur couldn’t take it anymore.

“Your boy knows he can hit back, right?” Arthur looked slightly concerned for the younger Gold’s well being. Anyone would be when the opponent was Billy Mills. Gwen poked her head around Arthur to get Aberama’s response. A sly smirk rested on his relaxed face. His hands were in his pockets and he looked as relaxed as a daisy, as if his son wasn’t getting pummeled in the ring directly in front of him.

“Told him in the professional game, people want their money’s worth. Don’t win too fast,” Gwen blinked, stunned. At this, Bonnie started to turn the tide, along with the crowd, and threw hit after hit at Billy. Gwen looked to Tommy, whose face didn’t give anything away, but he kept his eyes on Bonnie.

The fight itself was something that Gwen hadn’t really experienced before. As it progressed, it was like watching a cat toy with a mouse, and the _mouse_ happened to be _Billy Mills_. Gwen couldn’t understand it. She had been to a handful of boxing matches with Alfie, but with the massive size of his nephew, there was no doubt who was winning the matches.

This…this just threw Gwen’s mind for a spin.

It was brilliant.

“But if you’ve seen enough…” Aberama gave Arthur and Gwen a look that Gwen couldn’t comprehend. “Finish him, Bonnie!” He shouted into the ring. Gwen and Arthur both turned back to the match. As if waiting for that queue, Bonnie let loose with one, two, three, four hits consecutively, and the fifth was the knockout punch to win the match. All four of them moved their heads together, following the tree that was Billy Mills fall stiff to the floor.

Gwen’s jaw would’ve been on the floor if it was physically capable. Her wide eyes met those of Tommy’s who raised an eyebrow at her teasingly.

“Fuck me,” Arthur laughed, “That was a punch.” Gwen looked back up to see Bonnie pacing in the ring like a lion in a cage, vibrating with energy, as he waited to see if the larger man was going to get up. His almost predatory eyes met hers and it was…exhilarating. Gwen got butterflies in her chest just watching him move about the ring, muscles flexing with every movement of his arms. “What’s he got, horseshoes in those gloves or what?”

“Nope,” Aberama got into the ring, “Just his dad’s strength and his mother’s temper,” He repeated what he had said to Gwen before the match started. “And the sheer will to win,” Aberama strained as he pulled Bonnie’s gloves off. Tommy spoke up for the first time as Aberama and Bonnie stood opposite the three siblings, separated by the rope.

“Does he have fits?”

“No,” Aberama answered. Bonnie, still full of energy, could not keep still. Gwen took a deep breath to cool herself down. ‘ _An attractive man throws a few punches and suddenly I’m a wilting flower,_ ’ she thought to herself. Gwen noticed some perspiration dripping down from his neck, causing his white undershirt to stick to his chest. She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself.

By the almost smug look on Bonnie’s face, she knew that he had already noticed her looking.

“Asthma?” Aberama shook his head.

“No,”

“How’s he cut?” Arthur was almost giddy at the question.

“Well, no one’s cut him yet, but his skin’s thick,” Gwen crossed her arms over her chest.

“Does he drink?” Tommy asked. The look in Bonnie’s was was complete steel as Aberama chuckled.

“Water, sometimes,”

“How many fights?” Gwen spoke up. She was surprised she hadn’t swallowed her tongue after that display. The brothers looked down at her, then back to the Golds. A proud look came over Aberama and Bonnie’s faces. Aberama looked to Tommy as he answered, but Bonnie gave her his attention. He licked his bottom lip, then looked to Tommy.

Gwen could feel the heat rising out of her silk blouse.

“Twenty-five, bare knuckle. All knockouts. Five with gloves in pastures, all knockouts.”

“Against Romany fighters?” Arthur asked.

“That’s why they won’t let us in the fairs no more. He keeps winning,”

“I can fight a fucking tree and knock it out, Mr. Shelby,” Aberama laughed at his son, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in.

“As you’ve clearly displayed,” Gwen mumbled. She could hear Arthur stifle a laugh beside her.

“I like him. I like it,” The smile on Arthur’s face was comical to Gwen.

“Mr. Shelby,” Niall, the flighty fellow that he is, interrupted behind us. “Mrs. Eden is waiting upstairs,” Tommy turned and dismissed him, letting the floor manager know he’d be right up. Tommy nodded to the father and on, putting a smile on the younger’s face as he called for Arthur and Gwen to take a short walk away from the ring.

Gwen leaned against a showroom car and crossed her arms. She could still see Bonnie give quick glances in their direction.

“What do you think?” Tommy asked, looking between Gwen and Arthur.

“You asking me or her? Because I think we both know what her thoughts are, don’t we Tom?” Arthur’s laugh billowed through the room.

“If I wasn’t still healing, I’d give you a knock like Bonnie gave Mills, ya git,” Gwen snapped back, sensitive over this feeling of…whatever it was. Tommy looked to his sister and gave her a look that said ‘I told you so’.

“Alright, alright. You want to know what I think?” Tommy nodded at Arthur to continue, “That was over fast.”

“Yeah, but you can tell, eh? I’d give him to the Irish boys at Digbeth. They can teach him. Gwen, we’d need you to reach out to Alfie,” Gwen sighed.

“You can’t help but fly straight into the sun, hm?” Gwen questioned Tommy. “I’m telling you, Tommy. Alfie sees a single look from Bonnie,” Arthur rolled his eyes at the mention of the man who had beaten him within an inch of his life, “and he’ll have Goliath smoosh him like a bug between his massive cinderblock fists. That what you want? Because I’m telling you exactly what is going to happen.”

“Who the bloody hell is Goliath?” Arthur questioned.

“We’ll worry about that when we get to it,” Tommy dismissed. Gwen rolled her eyes.

“So we get him trained, then what?” Gwen asked, slightly irritated.

“We promote him,” Tommy’s eyes looked back and forth between Arthur and Gwen. “Big money in London, New York, if he’s good. We control him,” Tommy motioned down to Gwen. “She controls him,” Arthur’s eyes followed his brother’s, his own eyes widening at the mere idea. Gwen shook her head.

“No. No, no, no. Absolutely not,” Gwen pushed herself off of the car, shaking her head and waving her arms.

“Aye, he watches her like a pup,” Arthur mumbled with a nod.

“Forget Goliath. With what you’re talking about, Alfie will kill the lad himself. With his bare hands.” Gwen held up her hands for emphasis. “You know how he is about _principle_. So he kills Bonnie out of _principle_ alone and where does that leave us? Not in London, not in New York. And there goes our money, you stupid, stupid man.” Gwen chastised. “I’m not ruining my personal relationships so you can have a bit of fun with these men,”

“I’d hardly call what you and Solomons have a ‘personal relationship’,” Gwen jabbed Arthur -hard- on the chest. He winced and gave the spot a rub. Tommy held his arms out between the two, stopping the squabble.

“Alright, settle down. It is just an idea that would make things a lot easier.”

“I’m flattered you seem to think that I have that much power over anyone,”

“You do -over Solomons,” Arthur bit back.

“Hardly,” Gwen protested with a glare.

“Just like a horse,” Tommy kept the discussion on track, “On the books, control the odds. This is familiar territory to all three of us. Control when he wins, when he loses. Alfie Solomons runs a fighter -Goliath,” Tommy looked down to Gwen. She sucked on her teeth before answering, not liking where this was going one bit.

“Alfie says it’s pretty much free money. Apparently everything’s fixed. So long as you have a good fighter, it should be a cash cow,” She explained. Gwen could practically see the money signs in her brothers’ eyes.

“Fighting’s been good for us,” Tommy reasoned. “Better if we know who’s gonna win,” All three siblings looked back to the Golds.

“We have a lot going on as is, Tommy,” Gwen gave her input. Arthur nodded his head. “We’re still dealing with the Italians,”

“Yeah, that’s why it’d be good to have the kid around. Keep an eye on our Gwen here, hm, Arthur?” Tommy gave his sister a pat on the back. Arthur gave Tommy his full attention. “We take the fucking kid on, one day he may end up taking a bullet for you,” Tommy’s stare was unrelenting. “Can’t afford to lose another one of you, can I?” Arthur gave a hum in agreement. That was all Arthur needed to agree, and as reluctant as Gwen was -seeing the impending explosion in the near future-, she also nodded.

“Good. Come on,” Tommy led the three of us back to the ring. He ducked under the rope, while Arthur pulled it up as much as it would go to allow myself enough room without having to bend all that much. “Alright, we’ll do it.”

Almost immediately, Aberama countered with, “But we need to do a deal about money,” Arthur started counting out their cut of the win from the freshly won fight.

“Yeah. Speak to my accountant,” Tommy replied, nonplussed.

“The Witch?” Aberama questioned.

“No,” Gwen answered with a chuckle, “Me, but if you’d like to refer to me as such, that’s going to cost you extra to the bottom line.” Gwen joked, getting a laugh out of the older man. “While we’re getting this operation up and running, we will be working together very closely, Mr. Gold.”

“When do you think my first real fight will be do you think, Mr. Shelby?” The adrenaline had decreased dramatically by the sound of Bonnie’s now smooth and mellow tone.

“Ah, as soon as we can find anyone stupid enough to get in the ring with you,” Aberama chuckled.

“God help him,” His father joked.

“Our Gwen here will have something lined up once we know that you’re ready,” Bonnie’s eyes met Gwen’s once more, though this time the timidness and scarlet blush had returned.

“Here ya go, Bonnie,” Tommy pulled a flat cap out of his pocket and handed it to Bonnie, who looked somewhat shocked, but took it nonetheless. “You’re a Peaky Blinder now, son.”

Bonnie looked to each Shelby sibling, then to his father before giving a nod to Tommy, who nodded back and took off to his meeting.

Bonnie, slightly confused, looked between the remaining siblings and placed the hat on his head.

“There you go,” Arthur handed Aberama a wad of cash, “The lion’s share,” Aberama thanked him before turning to Gwen.

“When would be a good time to finish this discussion, Miss Shelby?” Aberama asked Gwen, clearly wanting to get things solidified as soon as possible. Gwen turned and looked at the clock behind her up high on the wall.

11:15am

“I am booked solid for the remainder of the day, but,” Gwen waved her arm up to get Niall’s attention from his office. He quickly scurried down the stairs, clipboard in hand, and over to Gwen. “Niall, could you please escort these gentlemen to Clarissa to book them an appointment. I need them in as soon as possible. Please stress this to her,” Niall nodded.

“Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure,” Gwen held out her hand to Aberama first, giving it a firm shake, and then to Bonnie, who’s grip was gentle -almost a caress. He gave Gwen a small smile, causing Arthur to chuckle behind her, and followed behind his father.

“Here,” Arthur started, grabbing one of Gwen’s hands. He inspected her fingers closely, front and back, before she pulled her hands back with a bewildered look on her face.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Just wanted to make sure you little finger was alright seeing as the bloke was wrapped so tightly around it,” He couldn’t even finish before the laugh came spilling out. Gwen sighed, but couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face.

“You are the absolute worst,” Gwen pushed him as she made to leave the ring. Arthur, still laughing at his own bad joke, raced past her to pull the rope up. “Come, Arthur. The Revolution is upon us,”

———

“Oi!” Arthur yelled through the factory. “Consider this an all hands meeting. That’s right, gather ‘round and listen up!” Blinders lined around the large open section of the factory to ensure that everyone stayed in line.

Arthur helped Gwen stand on top of a work bench so everyone could see her. Confusion was the number one look on every worker’s face as Gwen looked to the crowd.

“Word around this factory is that the Revolution is to be upon us ‘round noon time,” Gwen’s voice carried around the expansive warehouse. All the workers stopped what they were doing in the back and came closer to watch. “Someone is going to come in, blow their whistle, and you’re to follow them out? Is that correct?” There were some murmurs, but no one spoke out loud.

“Now that I have your attention, I’m going to need you all to listen _very_ carefully.” Gwen’s eyes searched across every face.

“As workers, you have rights. _We_ will not stand in the way of those rights. You want to protest? Feel free. You want to leave because you feel your wages aren’t fair? _Feel free_. But just know _this_ , I will have the names of every man and woman who leave their stations when that whistle blows. Your files will be destroyed and your employment here will be terminated -effective immediately.” The murmuring amongst the workers started to grow louder. “You walk out of those doors and you will be barred from entering again. _Additionally_ , you will be blacklisted from 98% of the factories in Birmingham as a whole.”

“ _You can’t do this!_ ” Someone shouted from the back.

“We can and we will. Just as you workers have rights, we as a business also have rights. We have the right to _hire_ , and we have the right to _fire_. If you leave your stations when that whistle blows, you will be stealing company time and you will be terminated. Your spots will be filled within the hour by people who need to _feed_ their children. By people who need to _clothe_ their children. By people who want to keep a _roof_ over their families heads.” Gwen began to pace the bench, “We pay a livable wage. You go anywhere outside of Birmingham, looking for factory work, and you’re going to get laughed back out onto the streets! Do you know why?” Gwen’s voice started to boom with volume as she pointed to the doors. “Because the factories elsewhere are hiring _children_ to do your jobs for an _eighth_ of what we pay you! Lucky for you, this company has integrity, dignity. We will not hire children to do these jobs for less. We could, but we _don’t_. We like to keep our communities employed, and to be able to do that, we pay the wages that we’ve set.”

“ _It’s not enough!_ ”

“You want higher wages?” This was met with a chorus of ‘Yeah!’. “Then we terminate half the workforce to compensate! This is not a charity, it is a business. We pay you a wage - _that you agreed upon, need I remind you_ \- to provide a service! You don’t like it? Find work elsewhere. There are plenty of workers waiting outside to fill the gaps.” Gwen took a breath.

“You want to listen to those lunatics at your secret meetings talk about the Revolution? Hm? Where the workers own the corporations? I -personally- will buy each and every one of you tickets straight to Russia so you can see what Communism really is. What it _really_ does to its people. And you can all report back to me with what you’ve found in the search of your equal working-man’s bullshit. Communism has brought nothing but starvation, suffering, and death to its people. Is that what you want when you cry for a Revolution? Hm? It is not the ‘Working Man’s Party’ that you all have delusions of and it will **_not_** be brought into _my_ factory!” Chest heaving, Gwen looked at all of the angry, confused, and shocked faces. “You leave those stations, you’re done. No exceptions.” Gwen held onto Arthur’s hand as she jumped off of the bench, leaving a storm in her wake.

* * *

“Do you think that’s gonna sway ‘em?” Arthur asked Gwen as they walked out of the assembly warehouse and back into the main part of the factory.

“Not many,” Gwen started, “But anyone who stays will get a bonus for not being a thorn in my side,”

Just as Arthur and Gwen were walking back up the stairs to the offices, a woman came flying past them, blowing a whistle so hard, her face was turning red. Shocked, but not surprised, Gwen and Arthur watched as she marched herself through the assembly lines, blowing the whistle the whole way.

“Niall!” Gwen yelled. The man, already hearing the whistle, came running. “Get your clipboard ready. We’re going to have a busy afternoon.”


	7. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.

Clarissa knocked on Gwen’s office door before letting herself in and shutting the door behind her. 

“Who’s next?” Gwen sighed, rubbing her eyebrows to relieve the tense feeling.

“Laurent Paz, the delegate from the _European Council for Trade_. He’s here to discuss the import of car parts to France. But…given the circumstances, I could reschedule him?” Gwen shook her head and stood to make herself a drink.

“That won’t be necessary. Bring him in,” Clarissa nodded and went to fetch Gwen’s next appointment. Gwen knocked back the gin and cleared off a few files from her desk from the last appointment she had endured. Just as she was pouring a second drink, the door opened.

“Miss Shelby, this is Monsieur Paz from Paris,” Gwen turned from the minibar and felt the blood rush from her face as a tall, handsome man swaggered into her office behind Clarissa. The secretary held the door open for him, gave him a smile, then shut it behind her once more as she left.

The man stood, staring at Gwen, her eyes never leaving his, but still keeping track of where his hands were. She noticed a black cross on the skin of his neck peaking out of the collar of his shirt. The man gave a small chuckle as he looked at Gwen. The surprise on her face was obvious, and he was reveling in it.

“Heard you had trouble,” He glance out of the slotted window to the factory floor below. “It’s good of you to see me,”

“You just came from Paris, huh?” Luca gave Gwen a look before undoing the button of his jacket and taking a seat. The tattoos on his hands became visible to Gwen, and if there was any doubt about who was standing mere feet away from her, it was immediately squashed. 

“You know Paris?” He asked.

“My brothers left Paris in a cattle truck,” Luca brought his elbows up to rest on the plush arms of the chair he sat in, and connected his hands together. 

“My appointment is with Thomas Shelby,”

“No,” Gwen walked back to her desk, drink in hand, and sat across from Luca, “Your meeting is with me,” Gwen stood her ground. 

“You’re not Thomas Shelby,” He said with a smirk gracing his mouth.

“And you’re not a frenchman,” Gwen replied, keeping her voice even. He looked down and adjusted his cufflinks.

“Ya ain’t wrong,”

“ _I rarely am_ ,” Luca leaned closer to the desk at her reply, his dark eyes cold and calculating.

“Guess where I’m from,”

“Well,” Gwen pulled her top drawer open. Luca’s eyes followed her every move. He sat back a fraction when she pulled out her cigarette case and lighter. “If I had to take a guess,” She looked up at him as she flicked her lighter, “I’d say you were American,” Without bothering to offer the man one, she snapped the gold case shut and stuck it back in her desk. Blowing the first big puff of smoke directly in his face, Gwen sat back in her chair. “You didn’t come on a train. Your suit is pressed and your shoes are clean. You have a tailor,” A grin spread on Luca’s face.

“I do, in New York City,” He pulled the left breast of his blazer open, showing a silk panel sewn into it. “Funacci. Italian,” He pointed with his finger over the name. “He’s my uncle,” Luca looked proud of the fact. He pulled out a matchstick from his pocket and started chewing on it absentmindedly. Gwen took a swig of her drink as the man prattled on. “Makes suits in a basement on Madge Street,” He explained. “He’s my uncle, so every stitch is stitched with blood,” He pointed at Gwen with his matchstick. “You have a tailor.” Luca motioned behind the desk, referring to the trousers he had seen on her when she was standing. “It’s not every day you see a woman wearing trousers, but a bunch of things are backwards in this country, huh?” Gwen crossed her legs under the desk.

“You know, I have uncles as well…” Gwen stubbed her cigarette out and took the last of her drink in one gulp, before setting the glass tumbler down with a resounding thud, then looking Luca directly in the eyes -unwavering- as he brought his attention back to Gwen from his matchstick that was twiddling between his fingertips. “But they’re not the sort of men who would work in a basement with a needle and thread, _Mr. Changretta_.” A slow, almost predatory smile grew on Luca’s face.

“I am surprised how easy it was to get into a room with you, any of you,” 

“Fair enough,” Gwen sat back in her chair, her hand slowing inching towards the gun she had strapped to the underside of her desk. Feeling the grip of it firmly in her hand, she brought it up, pointing it at Luca’s forehead. “And now?” Gwen’s heart felt like it had been taken over by a rabbit, beating so furiously she feared it would just stop from the stress. Luca put his hands up in a lazy surrender.

“And now?” He repeated Gwen’s question, all pretenses dropped along with the smile on his face, “And now you should know that during the trouble you had earlier on your factory floor, I sent an accomplice into your offices.” Luca reached into an inside pocket in his blazer, a jingling sound following as he brought his hand back out. “He found your gun,” Gwen let out a shaky breath. A trail of bullets rained from one hand to the other as he made a show of passing them. “And _unloaded_ it,” Gwen brought the weapon down and released the clip. 

He wasn’t lying.

Trying not to show her panic, Gwen bit her lip as she set the gun down on the desk and looked back up to Luca, who sat with a smug look on his face as he messed with the bullets in his hand. A loud click echoed in the silent room as he stood a bullet up on the rich wood the desk. 

“ _Arthur Shelby_ ,” Luca looked Gwen directly in the eyes. Another bullet, “ _Polly Gray_ ,” Another bullet, “ _Michael Gray_ ,” Another bullet, “ _John Shelby_ ,” Luca flicked the bullet across the desk. It rolled, hitting my hand. “Spent,” Gwen took a deep breath to steel herself. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“ _Ada Thorne_ ,” Another bullet, “ _Gwendolyn Shelby_ ,” Another bullet, “And finally, _Tommy Shelby_.” Gwen let a beat pass before she gave Luca a calculated response.

“Since we’re having a heart to heart, I’m curious -did your men ever make their way back to you? From John’s estate?” Something flashed in Luca’s deep eyes. “The rivers can be quite treacherous to navigate this time of year.” Her voice held a raspiness to it. “Did they meet you safely?”

“You know about my men?” The question had a dangerous air to it. Gwen felt like, for the first time since he walked into her office, she had the upper hand. 

He was clueless. 

Luca’s nostrils flared as she opened her desk drawer and pulled out a green, crushed velvet drawstring pouch. She let the contents jingle for him just as he jingled the bullets.

“Do I know about your men?” Gwen repeated his question, then gave a rueful smile as she opened the bag, pulling out the first engraved cross by the chain. “ _Rossi_ ,” She let it dangle in the air for a moment, then placed the gold cross in front of her. “ _Scaletta_ ,” She placed the second cross down. “ _Baresi_ ,” 

With the final cross on the desk, Gwen looked to Luca. He chewed at the matchstick, his eyes in slits. Gwen leaned over the desk, just as he had. “Do I know about your men, Mr. Changretta? I’m the one who put the bullets between their eyes and sailed them down the fucking river.” Gwen chuckled at the visible response from Luca, who fumed in his seat, breathing heavily. 

“They were family, weren’t they? Maybe not blood, but they were your brothers,” The smile on Gwen’s face reminded Luca of a snake. “They had the same neck tattoos, and just like these crosses, you have one around your own neck -engraved.” 

Gwen licked her bottom lip. “Your first mistake was sending someone unqualified to do your own dirty work. Your second mistake was killing my brother.” Gwen stood slowly, looking down at the man. “And your final fatal mistake was thinking Tommy’s the only head on this snake. I _was_ at John’s estate, Mr. Changretta. And I _was_ shot -twice. Your men and their cheap Tommy Guns had me down, but like the cowards that your men are, they didn’t take the time to make sure I was _dead_ before they took off.” Luca’s brows furrowed as he took all of this information in. 

“Do you want to know what happened to your men, Mr. Changretta? To your _famiglia_?” Gwen mimicked a hand gesture Luca had used when he said his suit was Italian. “They made it about a hundred yards down the road on the wagon before I took a rifle, John’s rifle, and executed them -one by one,” Luca’s left eye gave a twitch, “ _I_ put them down like the _**mutts**_ that they were.” Gwen’s jaw was set firm, letting Luca know that she was not bending to his threats. Gwen could tell that his teeth were grinding at the admission.

Luca blinked at Gwen, then stood from his chair. Gwen could tell that, just as he had surprised her, she had shaken him. Tit for tat. He pointed at Gwen as he stood.

“None of you will survive.” Gwen scoffed.

“You better pray to whatever God you belong to, Mr. Changretta, that I die before you, because when I _do_ get my hands on you…I’m going to send you back to your mother in pieces,” He nodded, more of a dismissal than anything else. Luca sniffed, then sneered at Gwen.

“Your level of security is pitiful,” Luca walked over to the window. “And we are an organization of a different dimension.” He looked over to Gwen. “I could’ve killed you when I walked through the door…” Gwen shook her head.

“No, you couldn’t have. As I’ve found out firsthand, you don’t like to get those polished rings dirty.” Gwen knew she struck a nerve when his nostrils flared once more.

“You and Tommy,” Luca took a few, slow steps towards Gwen. “You’re going to be the last Shelbys standing. I want you to be alive after your entire family is dead. ‘Cause my mother says that is what will hurt you the most.” Gwen crossed her arms over her chest.

“You know, I’ve been observing you since you came into my office, and do you know what I see when I look at you now, Mr. Changretta? I see a _drowning rat_ in a _cheaply made_ suit, just like your father and your brother before him.” He at least had the decency to look offended at the words. 

“You watch your mouth,” He threatened, pointing his finger. “Keep talking and you’re gonna lose that sharp tongue of yours,”

Gwen took a step towards him, closing what little gap there was between them. She looked up, keeping her gaze as menacing as possible. 

“I’ve taken more from men for less. Keep your empty threats, Mr. Changretta. If there is anyone here who has delivered promises, it hasn’t been you. And do not forget, I gave your mother mercy once. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Gwen turned her back on the mobster, a sign of blatant disrespect, and walked back to her desk. 

“Maybe I’ll have these melted down,” Her hand played with the chain of the middle cross. “Or maybe I’ll have them framed and put over my mantle as a daily reminder of the _gross incompetence_ of _American men_ who like to play _gangster_.” Gwen sighed, then looked over to Luca. 

“I’ll have at least one more for the case by then,” Gwen said as a promise. “Because you won’t be leaving this island alive.”


	8. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, this one is a long'n. Alfie and Bonnie will be in the next chapter, I promise! This turned out to be an unintentional slow-burn between the two, and a long one at that. Thank you so much to everyone who comments, but a very special thank you goes to Molliver who leaves me a kind comment with every update I post. Truly unbelievable! Thank you!

Gwen did not move from her desk for the following two hours after Luca had left her office. The ashtray in front of her was full, her cigarette case empty. She hadn’t seen Tommy or Arthur since they went to let the scabs in after the walkout, and as far as she knew, they weren’t in the factory. A soft knock at her door took her out of her thoughts.

“Miss Shelby?” Clarissa let herself in. “Miss Shelby, you were supposed to be in a meeting with Mr. Shelby at the hospital at 4:30. It’s just past 5:00 now.”

“Shit,” Gwen breathed out and ran a hand over her face.

“I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but…are you alright? You’re not one to miss appointments,” Gwen brought her eyes to meet Clarissa’s, who was genuinely worried. A distant echo of gunshots were heard from downstairs, startling Gwen and Clarissa. Gwen grabbed her gun, that had since been reloaded, and went for the door.

“You stay in here with the door locked. Do you understand? I’ll send someone up for you,” Clarissa nodded, fear blatant on her face.

* * *

Gwen ran down the stairs to the factory from the offices and through the doorway that led to the assembly floor. Her gun was drawn to her side as the new workers eyed her wearily. Everyone had stopped working after the shots and were waiting to see what would pan out.

“Where did they come from?” She asked a metal worker. He nodded in the direction of the forge.

Gwen raised her gun as she went into the darkness. Shadows danced thanks to the fires of the forge, playing tricks on her eyes. She noticed red on the ground, coating the floor and making it slick. Taking careful steps, Gwen stopped when she saw feet sticking out of the forge itself. Her heart pounded when Arthur rounded the corner, face and body streaked in red, a crazed look in his blue eyes. Taking a deep breath of relief, Gwen lowered her gun.

“The fuck happened to you?” The smell of burning flesh hit Gwen’s senses, making her eyes water and her throat gag. She looked at the half burning body, then to the second body on the ground next to it, then back to Arthur.

“I’m a fuckin’ mess,” Arthur breathed out, “Fuckin Italians, aren’t they,” Gwen took a better look at the one on the ground. He didn’t have a neck tattoo, nor did he have a cross on a chain; However, he was dressed eerily similar to Sabini’s cronies. They were Italian, alright, just a different breed.

“You check their pockets?” Knowing her brother didn’t think that far ahead, she holstered her gun and kneeled down, careful not to get the red paint on her clothes. Gwen rifled through the man’s pockets, coming up with a wallet and a set of keys. Opening the wallet, the first thing Gwen noticed was the currency, and it was definitely not British. A few Italian banknotes -Lira- were visible in the orange light of the fire.

“What?”

“Clean yourself up and meet me in Tom’s office. Looks like our problems just got bigger,”

* * *

“If you’re not going to show up for a family meeting, let someone know.” By the tone of his voice, Gwen and Arthur could tell that Tommy was irritated, but Tommy’s feelings were the last thing on Gwen’s mind at that moment. Losing her filter after an afternoon of gin and cigarettes, Gwen’s mouth had a mind of its own.

“ _Hi, Arthur. Hi, Gwen. Hm, sure does seem suspicious that you two weren’t at the family fucking meeting. Are you alright?_ No, Tom, kind of you to ask, but _we aren’t fucking alright,_ ” Gwen spouted back, sarcasm dripping from her tone. Tommy just stared at his sister, head tilted to the side. Tommy sighed and hung up his coat.

“We thought you were dead. There are fifteen fucking Italians out there!”

“No there’s not.” Arthur corrected from his seat behind his desk. “There’s thirteen. I just killed two of them.” Arthur took a swig of gin. “Ripped out their hearts and burned their bones to ash.” He passed Gwen the bottle, who accepted it and took a swig as she sat perched on the corner. Arthur stood, smacking his palm against his desk, startling Gwen. “Me! Your brother!” He began to walk towards Tommy. “Not Aberama Gold or his punch-drunk son, but me!”

“What are you talking about, Arthur?” Gwen questioned.

“Got cleaned up at Ada’s and she told me Tom took a vote in our absence.”

“You what?” Gwen stood, wobbling slightly, and followed Arthur to Tommy’s desk.

“Just calm down and tell me about the men-“

“You put _my_ job up for contract.”

“ _Arthur_ ,” Tommy warned.

“Yeah, well I’m gonna make it my fucking job anyway because this was all my fault. It was me who shot the old man,”

“Out of mercy, Arthur.” Gwen spoke up.

“John’s dead. Dead because of me. And I need to make it right.” Arthur turned to leave, but Tommy stopped him.

“I need to know how the men got in the factory.”

“Well, that’s a loaded question, isn’t it?” Gwen spoke up. “Now that that cat’s out of the bag, let’s just continue with _my_ news because it just so happens to directly coincide with what Arthur just experienced downstairs,” Gwen took a breath before continuing. “While the fucking _revolution_ was happening in our factory, while you all were letting the scabs in, I got a visit.”

“Who?” Arthur turned his head slightly, hand on the knob of the door.

“Who do you bloody think, Arthur?” Gwen crossed her arms. Arthur turned around and walked back to the pair.

“He was here?” Tommy questioned, his eyes widening.

“He was here,” Gwen whispered and turned to grab the bottle off of Arthur’s desk.

“You spoke to him?” Tommy questioned once more.

“Yep,” She accentuated the ‘p’ before she took the swig. “Brought right up to my office under the pseudonym Laurent Paz, from Paris. Sound familiar to you?” Tommy nodded.

“...his appointment was with me.” Gwen nodded.

“It was, and Clarissa moved it to my schedule after I came back,” Tommy took in this information for a moment, biting his bottom lip in thought.

“What did he tell you?” Gwen shrugged at the question.

“Everything he’s been waiting to tell us for a year, I’m sure.” Gwen rolled her eyes.

“Gwen,” She waved her hand dismissively at Tommy’s warning tone. Tommy could see that she had been already been drinking -and she definitely had after that shitstorm of a day- and the extra swigs of gin weren’t helping matters.

“What does any Italian _ever_ have to say to us? Just that we’re all going to die and that he’s leaving us-“ Gwen pointed to herself and then Tommy with the bottle, “for last. I made sure to shake him up a bit before he left, though. Let him know that if he wanted things done right, that he should do things himself. You know, get his hands dirty. He didn’t appreciate my advice though.” Gwen set the bottle back down. “I also may have maligned his deceased father and brother by comparing them to drowned rats in cheap suits-,”

“Jesus Christ, Gwen,” Tommy brought a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

“-Disrespected his basement dwelling uncle, went into great detail on how his men were murdered by my hand, and I may have also told him that I’d send him back to his mother in pieces if he didn’t kill me before I got my hands on him. I don’t think he liked me very much when he left, but those are just semantics, Tom. It was a conversation you really should’ve been there for because my retelling does not do it justice,” Tommy’s jaw was set as he took in deep, heavy breaths, glare trained on his sister.

“You’re beginning to sound like Solomons. Another drop goes down your throat tonight, and I’m dumping you in the Cut myself.” Gwen scowled at Tommy.

“I’ve had a very bad day, Tom.” He nodded, then motioned for Arthur to take the bottle away from the desk, tucking it into a drawer. “But the important thing I got across is that those men that I killed, they weren’t hired. They were made men from America, _family_ to him, and I made sure to rub his face in it like a dog in shit.” Tommy sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We are dealing with a very delicate situation-“ He began to explain, but was cut off by Gwen.

“What the fuck was I supposed to do? Sit there while he talks _at_ me? _Nod my head and take notes?_ ” Gwen moved to stand across from Tommy, who was leaning on his desk from the other side. “He sent someone into the offices during the strike. Emptied all of the guns they could find. The only defense I had were my fucking words and they seemed to do the trick just fine.”

“He had someone in here?” Gwen nodded her head. Tommy looked to Arthur, who did the same.

“Aye, and that someone had keys to leave the back door open. Two men were causing trouble, baiting Arthur to go down to the back,”

“Threw red paint on me, tried to get me down so the two Italian fucks could finish the job.”

“Who were the other two?” Gwen shrugged.

“Who fucking knows, but I found this-” Gwen pulled the wallet out of her pocket and pulled the lira out, throwing it on the desk. “He’s brought imports in from Italy. I think you know where to look for their supplier.”

“What we doin’ about this, Tom?” Arthur, who had stayed mostly quiet through the whole ordeal after his outburst, looked to his younger siblings. He held his hands together to stop the shake of the adrenaline.

“During the meeting we took a vote,”

“Right,” Gwen scoffed. “While you and I were staring down the face of death, Arthur, they took a fucking vote.”

“Shut up for one fucking second. Please.” Tom shouted. Gwen just glared. The gin did what it was supposed to do and gave her more liquid courage than she needed. “Polly was able to get a photograph of Luca Changretta, and some of his family members, from a photographer who worked at a Changretta wedding a year and a half ago.” Tommy opened his case and pulled the picture out for the siblings to see.

“Yeah, that’s the prick,” Gwen confirmed as she looked down to the photograph.

“We voted to give this to Aberama Gold,”

“That shot is for Arthur to take,” Gwen stated. Tommy shook his head.

“If he’s able to, then yes, but we need to have more than one way to skin this cat. We need Luca Changretta dead. Period.” Gwen’s eyes shifted to Arthur, whose body language showed just how volatile of a state he was in. His nostrils flared as he took deep breaths, his body was stiff, and his face was in a permanent scowl.

“You want to know who gave us up? Someone with keys. Why don’t you sit down and work it out for yourself?” Arthur growled at Tommy, before turning and walking back to the door. “Take a fucking vote.” He slammed the door behind him, leaving a semi-drunk Gwen and a reeling Tommy in his wake. After a moment, Gwen spoke.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Gwen said, moving to sit in a chair by Tommy’s desk. He threw her a look that told her to shut her mouth. She just shrugged and sat back, slouching in the seat.

“Maybe if you hadn’t been drinking yourself into a stupor in your office, you would’ve been at the meeting to speak up,” Sighing, Gwen got up.

“Ya know, Tom,” She pulled her coat from the hook and put it on, and finished sarcastically, “When you’re right, your right. And _you_ are always right.”

“Get some sleep, will you?!” Tommy shouted to Gwen as she shut the office door. She waved her hand to show that she heard him and went to her office to sleep on the pricy sofa.

* * *

Michael sat at the table in his hospital room, reading a newspaper when Gwen walked in. She knocked on the door to make him aware of her arrival before she came in. He gave her a small smile as she took a seat.

“How are you holding up?” She asked as she lit a cigarette.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You were in here, what? One night, then you fled in the night,” Michael chuckled.

“Nah, I’m fine.” Gwen waved him off, “But I did bring you some goodies. I know the food in here is dreadful. Why do you think I left in the first place?” This brought a laugh out of the young man as Gwen brought a canvas bag onto the table. Fresh fruit, some sliced bread from one of the local bakeries -an actual bakery, mind you-, some cheese, and a small flask. “It’s not much,”

“It’s appreciated all the same, so thank you,” Gwen smiled to him.

“I actually came here to discuss something,” Gwen got his attention off the food as she played with her cigarette. “Luca Changretta. He paid a visit to the factory yesterday.” Michael shifted in his wheelchair. Gwen pulled a gun out of her purse and placed it in front of him, to which he immediately covered with his hands. “You keep this on you at all times, do you understand me? Regardless of the men outside of your door, you are the most vulnerable right now. If they come for you, and they will, you take as many out as you can. We don’t go down without a fight,” Michael nodded, then placed the gun in a bag on the chair next to him. Satisfied, Gwen turned the conversation to lighter topics, keeping him company in the lonely room.

Needing a quick break to the restroom, Gwen told Michael that she’d be back in a few. She nodded to the Blinder that was stood watching the door to Room Nine. He nodded back, with a “Miss Shelby,” thrown in out of courtesy. Gwen walked down the short hallway, then went through double doors and hooked a right to the restroom.

Gwen took a moment to look at herself in the bathroom mirror. She had dark bags under her eyes, and anyone could tell she was hungover just by looking at her. Gwen had woken up -thanks to her secretary- that morning on the sofa in her office, face down, and drooling. She had Clarissa cancel her meetings and went home to freshen herself up before deciding to go see Michael.

Gwen did her business and washed her hands. Just as she was drying her hands with a towel, a single gunshot echoed down the hall. She pulled her pistol from its holster under her jacket and slowly opened the door to the bathroom. Gwen looked both ways, clear, before making her way back to the hallway with the double doors that led to Michael’s room. She peeked through the small glass window in the door and saw the Blinder she had greeted before was now a slump on the floor, a trajectory of blood sprayed on the wall behind him. Two armed men were in the hallway and the door to Michael’s room was shut.

Gwen leaned out of the window and rested her back against the wall, gun drawn up. She could go in, guns blazing, or she could take a moment to see what would happen.

Fuck it.

Gwen kicked the doors open, startling the armed men. One didn’t have the opportunity to turn around before Gwen sent a bullet through the back of his head. Brain matter and blood sprayed on the second man’s face, temporarily blinding him, giving Gwen the perfect opening. Both men were dead on the floor in seconds. The door to Michael’s room flew open and Gwen dove for cover back in the hallway before the now open double doors. She peeked around the corner and a bullet whizzed past her, shattering the window on the other side of the hall. Gwen fell to the floor and scrambled back around the corner. A few shots hit the corner, turning the cinderblocks in the walls to dust.

“Gwendolyn!” Luca shouted from Michael’s room. Gwen turned to look without him actually being able to see her. “Gwendolyn!” He taunted. Gwen could see his face poke out of the room, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I’m the only other fucking person in this hall, Luca,” She shouted in annoyance.

“Ah, don’t be like that, baby,” He called back. “Here’s the thing, I’m going to leave this shithole alive. You, on the other hand,”

“I’m sure you have very good vision, Luca. You see your men out there? You’ll be joining them really soon.” Gwen growled back.

“But you see, I have something of yours,” Michael. Gwen’s mind began to race. Gwen kept an eye on the hallway.

“And how do I know he’s still alive?” At this, Michael was pushed into the hallway. He held onto his chest where his wounds more than likely tore open. Luca grabbed the back of Michael’s shirt as he came out into the hallway behind him. Michael, for all intents and purposes was a human shield at this very moment.

“Come out, come out, Gwendolyn,” Luca taunted. His gun was pointed down the hallway in Gwen’s direction. He slowly backed them both up to the door at the other end of the hall, the door they had initially come in from. Careful to step over his fallen comrades, Luca sneered something nasty into Michael ear.

“Gwen,” Michael called out, blinking in fear when the gun was pushed to the side of his head.

“When you finally have a bullet in your head, Luca, I will know peace for what it truly is.” Gwen said as she stepped out of her hiding spot and into the hallway, gun raised. “You shoot me, I shoot you. You shoot him, I shoot you. Either way, this doesn’t end well for you, Luca.” He only pushed his gun harder into Michael’s temple.

“I’ve already been shot. Can we not shoot me again?” Michael pleaded. A parade of boots echoed behind Gwen, bringing her attention off of Michael and to her right. That little deflection was a big enough window of opportunity for Luca and he shot at her. Gwen returned fire, hitting him in the arm before Luca pushed Michael forward to the floor, and bursted through the door behind him, making his escape.

Gwen turned to her right and saw a herd of Blinders, headed by Tommy, running towards her.

“Gwen!” Tommy shouted as he saw his sister fall to the floor following the gunshot.

“Luca’s escaping down that hall!” She pointed to the door where Michael was trying to lean on to get up. Tommy sent a handful of men after the mobster, while another two helped Michael back to his room.

Tommy grabbed Gwen under her arms and hefted her up to her feet, looking her over.

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” She said, more to herself than him.

“Scour the perimeter!” Tommy shouted to the remaining Blinders. Finn and Isiah came up to Gwen and Tommy.

“Why is Finn here?” Her tone had a bite to it as she looked to Tommy. He sighed.

“We needed every man,”

“Not him,”

“I’m fine, Gwen-“ Finn immediately shut his mouth at the look his sister gave him.

"Does this," She pointed to the Blinder with a gaping hole in his forehead, "Look fine to you? Huh? If you were standing guard in this hallway, that would be you right now, so do not play this game with me right now. We will be discussing this later,” She promised to both Tommy and Finn, “But right now, we have one dead Blinder and two dead Italians to deal with. Why did he only have one guard?”

“We needed-“

“If I hadn’t been here, God knows what could’ve happened! You took those men for what, Tommy?! Michael is a sitting duck in here and you left him _one man_ who didn’t stand a fucking chance because the fucking Italians hunt in packs! If I hadn’t gone to the restroom when I did, _I’d_ have a fucking bullet in my forehead, Tommy!” Isiah and Finn took their cue to leave the brewing fight. Gwen put the safety on her gun and put it back into the holster. Tommy took a cigarette out of his pack and lit it, handing it to Gwen to calm her nerves. “Once Polly catches wind of this? She’ll have your balls in a vice grip! And the next time I cross paths with that man, he won’t have any balls left.”

After checking on Michael, and inspecting the dead Italians, Gwen came to the conclusion that whoever was with Luca here in the hospital was of the same ilk and the men who tried to kill Arthur in the factory.

“Finn and Isiah will drive you back to Watery Lane,” Gwen, having lost all energy to argue, just nodded and made her way out of the hospital with the two young men flanking her.


	9. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years and I'm finally delivering on the Alfie bit of this story. Nothing explicit happens, but there is quite a bit of steam.

Gwen knocked at an innocuous metal door in a Camden back alley and waited patiently until it opened up.

“Hello, Ollie,” Gwen offered a polite smile to the tall man when he opened the door to the bakery’s basement. “Alfie in?”

“He’s in a meeting across town, Miss Gwen,” Ollie offered. It was encouraged to never use the name ‘Shelby’ around these parts, so she was known as Miss Gwen to most in the bakery. “I’ll tell him yo-”

“I’ll wait,” She pushed past the lad and walked the familiar route to Alfie’s office. The door was shut, but unlocked, so she let herself in, shut the door, and made herself comfortable in his chair behind his desk.

Gwen busied herself with the many trinkets Alfie had around the room, books on the shelves, newspaper on the desk. The clock on the desk told Gwen that it had been an hour since she sat down at the desk when the door handle jiggled, the door pushed open by an annoyed looking Alfie Solomons. He hung his hat, scarf and jacket at the hook by the door, then walked over to his desk, setting his cane down on top of it.

“What crevice of the Earth have you been hiding in, Alfie?” Were Gwen’s first words to him. Alfie leaned against the side of his desk with the slightest look of discomfort and shrugged.

“Here and there. I’m a very busy man. You know how it is, Gwen,”

“All too well, Alfie,” She replied with a glare on her features. An indecipherable look crossed his face.

“Don’t be like that, love. You know I’ve got a business to run, don’t I?”

“Yeah, well I’ve got a business to run, a family to keep alive, and the fucking Mafia breathing down my neck, Alfie. You send flowers after I end up in the bloody hospital and then just fuck off without a word? You don’t return my calls and I can’t get ahold of you? You’re up to something,”

“You come to Camden to piss and moan? Could’a saved you the trip and me the headache,” Gwen stood up and walked to stand in front of Alfie.

“Oh yes, I came all the way to Camden to nag you. You’ve hit the nail on the head, Alfie.” Gwen rolled her eyes.

“Come here,” Alfie opened his arms for Gwen to walk into. Gwen wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling how solid his form was, and pressed her face into his chest. His hands immediately started rubbing up and down her back lazily. “You’ve been dealing with a lot, right, and I figured it was best to keep my distance. I know how you lot are,” Gwen loved the feeling of his chest rumbling with each word. 

“I understand. Just would’ve been nice to see you is all,” Alfie cupped Gwen’s cheeks when she tilted her face up.

“A Shelby lookin’ forward to seein’ me. Imagine that,” Gwen gave his beard a playful tug, pulling his lips down to hers.

“Didn’t come down here to _see_ your mouth talk,” She gasped as his full lips moved down her neck.

“And what do you want to see this mouth do?” Gwen felt Alfie smirk against her skin as she made quick work of unbuttoning her trousers and hopping onto the desk.

“What it does best.” She teased. “Now get over here.” Gwen yanked Alfie by one of his suspenders and the man tumbled on to her, hands grabbing anywhere on her body that they could.

* * *

“Tommy needs a meeting with you,” Gwen mentioned as she pulled her brassiere over her head, her back to Alfie. He sat in his chair, slouched in only an undershirt, trousers pulled up -button undone-, and his suspenders hanging low on his hips. He was swirling a glass of rum in one hand and cocked an expressive eyebrow at Gwen.

“I just had you bent over that desk right there, shouting to gods you don’t even believe in, and Tommy’s the first thing you start talkin’ about?” Gwen pulled her trousers on, buttoned them up. She then grabbed her blouse off of the floor and tossed it onto Alfie’s desk, then walked over to Alfie. He eyed the nearly translucent white fabric of the brassiere that left very little to the imagination, the gentle bounce it made with each step she took. Alfie was making eyes at Gwen as she sat on the desk, her legs dangling between his.

Gwen took the glass out of his hand and took a sip. Rum wasn’t her favorite, but it would do seeing as that’s all there was in this forsaken bakery.

“Taking my goods now, too?” Alfie whined. Gwen grinned wickedly, then blinked her lashes at him prettily.

“ _Taking your goods_ is what I seem to excel at in this office,” Her innuendo did not fall on deaf ears, and it caused Alfie to sit up straight and push his chair closer to her, slotting himself between her open legs. His hands came up to rest on Gwen’s thighs, rubbing them up to her hips and back down again.

“You are _trouble_ ,” Alfie grumbled. Gwen bent down and placed a quick kiss on his lips to shut him up.

“That’s the allure, Alfie.” Her hands cradled his face, her thumbs rubbing around the irritated patches of skin near his hairline on his temples.

“Don’t fuss about with that, yeah,” His massive hands dwarfed Gwen’s as they came up to grab hers and move them from his face. “Make ‘em worse. Don’t need you to make this mug uglier than it already is,” Gwen gave him a skeptical look.

“You are many things, Alfie Solomons, and ugly is not one of them. Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yes,”

“And?” He shrugged, playing Mickey the Dunce.

“And nothing. I’ve been to a doctor and that’s that.” Alfie stood from his chair, keeping between Gwen’s legs. “It comes and it goes,”

“Like you,”

“Like me.” Knowing this was all Gwen was going to get out of the conversation, she weaved her fingers in between Alfie’s and held his hands on her lap.

“Fine. Then we’re talking business,” Alfie groaned, his head tilting back.

“That’s the one rule we got between us. We don’t talk business,”

“That’s a rule _you_ made up and _I_ never agreed to. I just haven’t spoken of anything until now, but you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

“Go on then,” He said with a sigh.

“Tommy’s taken on a fighter.”

“Boxer?” Gwen nodded. “What the bloody hell is your Tommy doin’ with a boxer?”

“Semantics, Alfie.” Gwen took another sip of the rum. “He’d like to set up a fight between his fighter and your Goliath. Big fight, it’ll be worth your while,”

“Who’s his fighter?”

“Gypsy lad,” Alfie grunted in response, “Knocked out every man he’s been in the ring with. Saw him knock out Billy Mills with my own two eyes, and Billy Mills was twice his size.” Alfie stole his rum back from Gwen, downed it, then glared at her in thought.

“Billy Mills? That old horse?”

“Aye,” One of Alfie’s hands moved to scratch at his beard, then sighed in defeat.

“When does your Tommy want to meet?”

“Day after tomorrow, seven o’clock.” A smug smile grew on Gwen’s lips as she carefully lowered herself onto Alfie’s lap. His hands went to her hips, holding her tightly.

“You’ll be there?” He mumbled as his lips went for her neck once more. Gwen pulled back, looking him in his eyes.

“I _can_ be,” She breathed out, chest heaving as she contorted her arms to pull the brassiere off once more. Alfie’s eyes immediately went to Gwen’s chest, which was now at eye level and inches from his face.

“Right, well…carry on,” Alfie rasped before he pushed his face into Gwen’s chest, causing her to squeal in laughter.

* * *

Gwen’s eyes were glued to the men in the ring, following one in particular. Bonnie was on his third match of the day at the boxing hall in Digbeth, having already knocked out two other men just as he had with Billy Mills. Aberama and Harry May stood to Gwen’s left, Tommy stood to her right with his arms crossed. Gwen could feel Aberama’s gaze on her every so often, but her eyes never left the ring.

Between the movements of Bonnie’s muscles and the way he seemed to float as he moved, Gwen was mesmerized. It also didn’t help that he would send smug looks over to Gwen every so often.

“It seems that your presence has brought an extra pep to my boy,” Aberama spoke up. Gwen almost rolled her eyes -almost. She brought her gaze away from the ring for the first time since the match started. Gwen first looked to her brother, who had the shadow of a smile pulling at his lips, then to Aberama who looked as if he owned the world.

“Is that so?” He nodded.

“His steps are a bit quicker, his hits a bit harder.”

“I know what you’re doing, Mr. Gold, and let me assure you when I say that there are some things Bonnie is quite capable of doing himself,” Gwen had a teasing smile on her face as she turned back to the match.

With his signature four final punches, Bonnie’s opponent fell face down to the mat of the ring and Gwen could practically hear steam coming out of Mr. May’s ears as Bonnie leaned on the ropes.

“Next,” The boyish grin he directed to Gwen was charming enough and Gwen had to bite her lip to stop from laughing with Harry May’s yelled at him.

“You’re not in the fucking fairground now, son!” He chastised. Gwen had to look at anything other than Bonnie to keep a straight face. “Get down and give me 200 for taking the piss out of a fine fighter!” The grin slid from Bonnie’s face, only a little, as his eyes met Gwen’s once more -fleetingly- as she let out the laugh she had been holding back. Bonnie nodded to the trainer and dropped his gloves before jumping down and started to skip rope furiously next to the ring.

“Forgive me, Mr. May,” Gwen apologized, holding her fist to her mouth. Tommy sent her a glare, but shook his head. She knew he wanted to laugh. Harry sent Gwen a look, but knowing not to chastise his cash flow, he just gave her a nod.

“He’s got a head on him, that boy.” Harry stated as all four watched Bonnie.

“And a fist,” Aberama spoke up. “So, what do you say, Mr. May?”

“He works hard, his game.” Harry flipped through his little book of notes, “I need to work on his defense. Right now his left hand is only good for wanking.” Gwen made a face at the trainer. “Apologies, Miss Shelby.” She just waved her hand.

“You don’t have to earn your money, we’re paying you anyway. Is he ready?” Tommy asked.

“Is he even registered?” Harry May looked almost bored, as he anticipated the answer to be ‘no’, so he was surprised when Tommy pulled out a registration card from his coat pocket that needed his signature.

“I’ve put him down as a welterweight,” Tommy handed the card over to Harry. “Midlands division. Amateur turning pro. Just need your counter signature.” Aberama held a pen up to the trainer.

“Like I’m going to say no to you boys,” Harry scoffed, taking the pen, “and Miss,” he said as an afterthought. Gwen rolled her eyes as Harry signed the paper.

“Just tell us,” She spoke. “Is he ready?” All four looked back to Bonnie as he was still jumping furiously.

“In thirty years, I’ve never seen a war boy so ready.” Gwen looked to Tommy with a grin on her face. A wry grin spread over Aberama’s features. The sound of the jumprope hitting the floor broke Gwen’s attention from the men and back to Bonnie, who walked back to the group.

“And that’s 200, Mr. May.” He was out of breath and sweat was dripping from his forehead and the nape of his neck, bringing Gwen back to her thoughts of the first fight in the factory just days ago. _God help her._ “So, who am I fighting first, Mr. Shelby?” Gwen leaned on the ring behind them, next to Aberama and crossed her arms over her chest.

“When you step in the ring, Bonnie, who do you see across the canvas, eh?” Tommy asked, philosophically. Bonnie took a moment before he replied.

“I see myself,” He took a breath, “Forty years old, having done fuck all except tramping the lines,” A miffed look crossed Aberama’s face at the admission by his son. “See my life wasted,” Bonnie glanced at Gwen. “I won’t let it happen.” He was stern with his words and Gwen could tell that this was all he could think about. Bonnie looked to Tommy. “Me? I’m going to be a champion.”

Keeping the eye contact, Tommy took a step closer to Bonnie.

“ _When this business is done_ ,” Tommy began in Romani, “ _You’ll be champion of the world, Gypsy Boy_.” Tommy handed Bonnie his papers. “Gwen has taken the liberty of getting you sorted with a fighter in Camden. Boy’s name is Goliath.” With that, Tommy started making his exit. Gwen took a moment to take in both Golds with a small grin.

“Get ready. He’s called ‘ _Goliath_ ’ for a reason,” She teased and gave Bonnie a wink before following after her brother, a little extra sway in her hips.


	10. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwendolyn Shelby, two years Tommy's junior, learns that compliancy in the family business is not always the best policy.

Charlie sat on Gwen’s lap as she spoke with Tommy the following morning. She was helping him with his breakfast as the maid tidied up the room. _A maid in Small Heath was quite a strange thing to see_ , she thought. A horn beeped outside, interrupting the conversation. It beeped again. Gwen rolled her eyes as the horn outside was held down, the sound ringing incessantly.

“He really is a bastard,” Gwen breathed out as she gave Charlie a kiss on his head as she handed him over to the maid. She slipped on her coat and led the way out to Watery Lane with Tommy following behind her. 

“Enough!” Gwen’s voice was drowned out by the noise as Alfie stared her directly in the eyes. He held his pocket watch with his free hand to make a point, then let the horn go. “Good morning to you, too, ya prick,” Gwen crossed her arms.

“Yes -it is, a good morning, Gwendolyn. Tommy.” He looked over to Tommy. “How come everyone is in fucking bed?” Alfie motioned to the empty streets. Gwen deflected the topic away from the strike.

“That there, Tommy,” Gwen pointed to the man in the corner, “ _Pissing_ on the wall is Goliath.” The man turned and had enough dignity to look sheepish at Gwen, whom he had met a few times previously. 

“Right,” Tommy nodded, impressed by the sheer size of the man. “Let me introduce you to ‘David’. This way, boys,” 

“Assuming that David is out of bed,” Alfie quipped. He and the hulking man followed behind Gwen and Tommy as Tommy led the group down the stairs of a cellar and to one of his many gin rooms.

“Oh, right, the problem between gin and rum is -and Gwendolyn understands this- is that gin, right, it leads to the melancholy.” Tommy and Gwen stopped walking and turned to Alfie. “Whereas rum incites violence and also allows you to be liberated from self-doubt.” Gwen rolled her eyes and continued forward to a table and chairs, sitting in the first chair facing the men. 

“Now I hear you’re probably more in need of the old rum at the moment rather than gin, mate.” A bird flew through the rafters of the underground distillery, causing Alfie to startle mid-sentence.

“Oh, dear, Tommy. You’ve got fucking starlings, mate.” Alfie pulled out his gun to shoot at it. “That shit will rot your pipework. These bastards only understand one language,” He cocked the hammer back and brought his arm up.

“That’s quite unnecessary, Alfie!” Gwen called, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

“It’s alright, I’m going to get a kestrel.” Tommy assured just so the oaf would put his gun down and not cause hearing loss to everyone in the room. Alfie quickly tucked his gun away and turned back to Tommy.

“I hear you’ve got Italians, mate. Have you got a kestrel for them and all?”

“As a matter of fact, we do, Alfie.” Gwen spoke up. Alfie hummed and nodded and Tommy led them both over to the table. 

“Well, everything is confirmed, innit? No weakness behind the eyes.” Alfie started. Gwen quickly tuned them both out when Tommy brought out the gin for Alfie to sample -dab on his hand- as Alfie knew what an American market wanted. Gwen pulled her golden case out of her pocket and plucked a cigarette from inside. Alfie brought a gin soaked finger to his nose, then swiftly stuck it under Tommy’s -who looked at him in annoyance.

“Americans want it sweeter,” Was all he said in regards to the gin, then started pacing. Tommy sat his glass in front of Gwen and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“What have you heard, Alfie?” Gwen picked the glass up and started sipping. Tommy gave her a look, but she just gave him a shrug.

“Heard a cop got shot. Who shot him?”

“Our kestrel,” Gwen replied, tapping the ash of her cigarette.

“Right, oh, upping the stakes, very good.” Alfie replied back, full of sarcasm.

“What of the Sicilians?” Tommy sat, lighting his own cigarette, and looked to Alfie.

“They’re still using Sabini-”

“That insipid man just doesn’t know when to lay down and die,” Gwen muttered through the glass as she tilted it up.

“-For vehicles and places to stay,” Alfie finished.

“And reinforcements?”

“Ah, they’re Sicilians, aren’t they? They don’t trust nobody and fucked a goat on the morning of their first pubic hair. They’ve got traditions,” Always so colorful, Alfie was.

“How many are here?” Gwen asked.

“Eleven, but there were a fair few more, now weren’t there? But between your sister and that Bible thumper of a brother, you’ve brought their numbers down.” Gwen glared at the man standing in front of her. “But they still have enough to drop a man who wrapped his balls in an OBE, until they fell off,” God, Gwen hated these meetings between her brother and Alfie because she had no idea what the fuck he was saying most of the time.

Tommy grunted as he reached forward for a new glass, filling it a quarter with the bottle of gin between he and his sister. “Well, the real question, Alfie, is which side are you playing for?” It was a valid question. Gwen didn’t trust Alfie so far as she could throw him. She had learned that the hard way, but there was something -enough- between them for Alfie to garner some kind of loyalty to her, just as she had to him…to an extent. It was complicated.

“Fucking hell. What kind of world is it to bring up children where your own mate can ask you that question, eh?”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Alfie,” Gwen’s tone held no room for humor, or his round-about way of saying things. Alfie’s response made the hair on her body stand on end. He chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, the truth is, Tommy, you’re all going to be fucking dead soon, yeah, and then your starlings will peck out your blue eyes, won’t they? And the jackdaws will steal your gold and your medals and pretty soon it will be as if you had never even fucking happened, mate.” Gwen’s glare hardened with each passing word. She opened her mouth to respond to Alfie’s cutting words when Finn came rushing down.

“Tommy, there are men approaching,”

“Yeah, let them pass,” Tommy motioned for Finn to go let them in. His tone didn’t show that he was bothered by Alfie’s words, but Gwen knew he was. “Alright,” Tommy breathed, “You tell Darby Sabini from me that if the Italians win, they are not planning on leaving. And after us,” He motioned to Gwen and himself, “It will be him, and then it’ll be you,” He pointed to Alfie, “Then the Titanic. And the fucking Mafia, Alfie. They’ve come here, can’t believe our coppers are unarmed. They’re going to steal their liquor and it’s against the law. They come here and they like what they see? They’re coming and they’re here to stay.”

“Next thing you know, our starlings will be pecking out your blue eyes too, Alfie. It’ll be like you never even fucking happened, mate.” Gwen mockingly repeated as she stubbed her cigarette out. 

“Mr. Shelby,” Aberama’s voice echoed as he made his way to the cellar. “I’ve come to talk purse for the fight.” Bonnie followed closely behind, dressed smartly, as Aberama came into view. “Miss Gwendolyn,” Aberama greeted. Bonnie tipped his flat cap to her, giving her a smile.

“Your kestrel, huh?” Alfie pointed to Aberama with his cane. Neither of the Shelbys dignified his question with a response. “Tommy, when a pikey walks in with hair like that, you’ve got to ask yourself ‘Have I made a mistake?’,” Gwen snatched the bottle from Tommy, who shot her a warning look.

“If I have to listen to this, I’m not doing it sober,” Was her response as she poured more than a single serving.

“Who the fuck are you?” Aberama asked.

“Here we go,” Gwen muttered, rolling her eyes, and chugged down more than half of her glass.

“Who the fuck am I?” Alfie asked while pointing to himself, taken aback. Bonnie watched the scene from behind his father, leaning on a vertical metal pipe.

“Who the fuck is this?” Aberama looked to the Shelby siblings in confusion. Gwen looked to Tommy, who had a fist to his mouth, hiding the growing grin. Gwen could’ve slapped him.

“I, my friend, I am _the uncle_ , _the protector_ and _the promoter_ of that **_fucking thing_** right there,” Alfie pointed to Goliath with his cane like he was a sideshow exhibit. When Bonnie looked over to Goliath, then back to Gwen, she didn’t see a single bit of fear in his eyes. “-in whose shadow nothing good, nor godly, will _ever_ fucking grow.”

Gwen bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face. Knowing it was a lost cause, she too covered her mouth with a fist.

“That there,” Alfie got closer to Aberama, cane still in the air, “right, is the southern counties Welterweight Champion. He is of mixed religion, therefore he is godless.” By the look on Aberama’s face, he couldn’t tell if this man was taking the complete piss out of him. “He was adopted by Satan himself before he was returned out of fear of his awkwardness.” Gwen snorted into her glass, causing gin to slosh up onto her face. Bonnie, somewhat entertained by what Alfie was saying, looked back to Gwen. Her face was turning red as she wiped the remnants of the alcohol from her skin, but he could see that she was silently laughing. Alfie continued.

“But he’s impossible to marry off due to his lethal dimensions. His mother, terrified, just fucking abandoned him. And there he is, stood before you, like the first of some brand new fucking species!” Gwen looked over to Aberama, who looked like he couldn’t form a coherent thought after the whimsical barrage of Alfie Solomons. “Any man that you put before him, right, would be like entering a fucking threshing machine, mate.” Alfie boasted.

“Now,” Alfie took a breath, “will you offer your son?” All eyes moved to Aberama and Bonnie. Aberama turned to look over his shoulder, ultimately giving Bonnie the right to choose. Confidence radiated off of Bonnie Gold in waves, and after Alfie’s whole speech, that was saying a lot. 

“Name the day, Mr. Shelby, Miss Shelby,” The look Bonnie had on his face was almost comical. He looked so calm and collected, whereas his father looked like he was one micro-aggression away from strangling Alfie with his bare hands. Gwen shot him a grin and a wink. Alfie turned to look at Gwen, then back to Bonnie, his eyes narrowing.

“Why does the pikey lad keep looking at you like that, Gwendolyn?” Alfie questions while eying Bonnie. A lazy grin made its way onto Gwen’s lips.

“Like what, Alfie?” 

“He’s lookin’ at you, right, like _I_ look at you when you’re sitting on my desk with your-” 

“ _Alfie_ ,” Tommy warns. Gwen’s eyes had turned to slits she was glaring so hard.

“Have his balls even dropped yet, Tom? Hm?” Bonnie’s face turned red and irritation and embarrassment washed over his features. “This here,” He pointed to Gwen, “Is a grown woman. Top of the fuckin’ line. You know what to do with that?” He interrogated Bonnie.

Alfie turned to look at Gwen as she stood and walked over to him. 

“You piss all over this floor and you’re going to clean it up,” Gwen practically growled up at the man as she poked him in the chest, not at all amused by the pissing contest Alfie was trying to demonstrate. “And, not that it fucking matters to anyone aside from you, but I’m quite confident that Mr. Bonnie Gold knows exactly what to do with a woman, so while I’m sure we all appreciate your concern the status of his balls, now would be an opportune time for you to keep his genitalia out of your mouth.” Alfie was genuinely taken aback by Gwen’s retort. Threw him for a loop, it did.

“Gwendolyn, _darling_ , my concerns for you aren’t unwarranted, right, because when I see a pikey-” Gwen held up her hand, stopping him mid-sentence.

“Alfie, in this room, you truly are the Wandering Jew. Don’t forget that.” Gwen cut him off, reminding him of the Shelby heritage. “And you’d do well to keep that word out of your mouth in my presence. Hm?” 

Aberama was watching with a hidden grin. Bonnie, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to jump in at any second and give this man the same treatment he gives to any man who gets in the ring with him. 

“Or our starlings might come sooner for your eyes than you think,” Gwen walked back over to her seat and plucked her coat off the back.

“Just want to make one simple thing clear, right.” Alfie went back to barraging the young fighter now that Gwen wasn’t between them. “You look at _me_ ,” Alfie pointed to himself. “You look at _him_ ,” He pointed to Tommy, “Look at that fucking _monstrosity_ , right,” He pointed to Goliath, “but you keep your fuckin’ eyes off _her_ , mate. She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

“ _Enough_ , Alfie. Leave the lad alone.” Aberama held her coat like a gentleman to help her put it on. As it slipped over her shoulders, she continued. “As far as you’re concerned ,I’m already a dead woman, so,” Gwen’s tone was bored, done with the whole conversation. She got Alfie’s attention. “Tommy’s fighter wants to have a look,” Her eyes shifted to Bonnie, winking to him once more, then back to Alfie and shrugged with a sly grin. “Let him.” With that she took her leave, giving Bonnie a grin as she walked past, her hand brushing against his. 

* * *

Gwen felt beads of sweat trickle down her neck and chest as she rolled away from Alfie’s panting form. She twisted her hair into a knot on the top of her head and used the pin she had pulled out before her most recent…tryst…with Alfie that was placed on the bedside table, and situated it to hold her hair in place. She got up, the chill of the room sending goosebumps up her entire body, and went to the restroom to freshen up. 

“That was some real shit you pulled, you know that? You need to quit with that pissing contest nonsense. Jealousy is not becoming of you, Alfie.” Alfie’s eyes were closed, but his hands were situated behind his head and he grunted, trying to regulate his breathing. He was definitely awake. Gwen crawled back into the bed, tugging the sheets and blankets over her shivering body. 

Alfie’s warmth immediately wrapped itself around her. She wrapped an arm around his waist as one of his arms came down and pulled her closer to him. Gwen traced patterns on his chest, avoiding the red splotches that seemed to litter his torso just as they littered his face.

“Speaking of, I got a question,” Alfie grumbled.

“Alright,”

“You fuckin the gypsy lad?” Gwen stopped her movements and took a moment to process what he had asked her.

“Am I _fucking_ the gypsy lad? Do you hear yourself? or do you speak just so I can contemplate every choice I’ve made that has led me to this exact moment in my life?” Alfie cracked his eyes open and stared down at Gwen.

“I’m askin if you’ve fucked the gypsy lad, Gwendolyn -right- because from the fucking eyes he was giving you and those little flirty looks you were given’ him during the entirety of that fucking meeting, I’d go so far as to say you are.” Gwen sat up and looked down at the nonplussed man.

“I’m _naked_. In _your_ bed. And you’re asking me if I’m _fucking_ the _gypsy lad?_ ” Gwen scoffed and rolled out of his arms, and subsequently out of his bed. “You know what, Alfie?” She started picking up her clothes. “I _haven’t_ fucked the gypsy lad,” She quickly put her brassiere on, followed by her blouse, “but it _has_ crossed my mind a time or two.” Gwen pulled her skirt on with haste, then went on the hunt for her stockings and shoes. Alfie grunted again, sitting up against the headboard.

“Now you’re just saying that to be hurtful. It was just a simple question, Gwendolyn. You’re getting very twisted up about it,” She grabbed the stocking from their hanging place on a reading lamp.

“Sometimes the truth is what hurts us the most. That’s a lesson you taught me, isn’t it? And nothing is ever _simple_ with you, Alfie. Ever.” She found one heel under the bed and the other was shoved between two cushions on a loveseat he had near the window. 

_Curious_. 

Gwen sat on the seat and pulled the stocking up, notching them in her garter, then buckled the straps to her shoes in place. “And even if I was _fucking_ the gypsy lad, what business is that of yours? Hm? Am I the only woman you’ve had in this bed in the last _month_?” Alfie, had situated the blankets over his naked lower half, didn’t say a word, but continued watching Gwen with darkening eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” Gwen made sure she had all of her belongings and walked to his side of the bed, sitting just on the edge.

“You have as many girls in here as you’d like, Alfie, that’s not what I’m getting at.”

“And what is it you’re getting at then?”

“This thing we’ve had going for a while, it goes both ways. I’ve just never had a purpose for another to warm my bed.” Gwen turned to face Alfie, who watched her with suspicion. “I had a husband once, as you are greatly aware, and I’m not looking for another. But I will not be disrespected in front of my family nor will I be disrespected in front of my clients because you’re feeling jealousy for the first time in your life. Next time you speak about what I do behind closed doors, I’m snippin’ your balls off.” Alfie shifted on the bed, crossing is legs under the covers at the threat.

“Is that what he is? A client?” Gwen gave the blanket covering his legs a pat and stood.

“ _What he is_ , is none of your fucking business.” Gwen said with finality. “What was our rule? No business in the bedroom?” Alfie sighed. “When you get your head removed from your ass, you know where you can find me. Until then, it’s just you, your hand, and whatever woman you decide you want to pick up, eh,” Gwen’s heels clicked on the floor, alerting Cyril as soon as she opened the bedroom door. 

“Gwendolyn,” Alfie called out. “Now don’t be like that, we was just having a conversation, we were! Come back to bed, have a little nap, and we can talk about this later, right,” The large dog got up on the other side of the door and followed Gwen down the stairs and to the front entrance. She gave Cyril a scratch behind his hears and a pat on the head.

“Your dad’s a real prick, but he loves you. Be a good boy.” She slammed the door behind her and pulled her sunglasses out of their pouch in her purse. 

* * *

“You know, Tommy, family meetings are becoming a dreadful time, but it’s good to know that Arthur and I will have a say this go around, right Arthur?” Gwen snipped as she lit her cigarette and patted Arthur on the back. Still not over the last vote, he sent a glare at Polly and Tommy.

“So,” Arthur tapped out a hefty pile of cocaine on the round table of the betting house and started lining it up. “What the fuck happened today, Tom?”

“We all heard, shooting in Artillery Square,” Gwen casually sat back in her chair. Glass in one hand, cigarette in the other. The usual, it was turning out to be. 

Polly was standing next to Tommy, both looking uncharacteristically nervous. Arthur’s face dragged across the table as he snorted an excessive amount of cocaine in one go. “Jesus Christ, Arthur. Leave some for the rest of us, hm?” Gwen muttered, flicking her ashes.

“Yeah, there was.” Tommy affirmed to the family. “Today I killed three men,”

“Welcome to the bloody club,” Gwen replied, face stoic, as she raised her glass. The rest of the family looked at each other in surprise.

“Now our enemies will have to wait,” Tommy continued. There was a beat of silence until Arthur spoke.

“I suppose they, uh…I suppose they took you by surprise, did they?” Arthur asked, more like baiting Tommy. 

“No, I knew they were coming,” Gwen’s brows furrowed at Tommy’s response as she set her glass and cigarette down. Gwen’s eyes flicked to Arthur, who looked just as irritated as she felt, when Polly spoke.

“Just after Christmas, I received a letter from Luca Changretta, offering to spare my son if I gave up Tommy.” Gwen felt like Tommy was going back to his ways after Grace died and she did not like it one bit. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, glaring at her brother.

“And I gave Tommy up.” Polly concluded.

“Because that was the plan that Polly and I agreed on. I knew that Luca would want to pull the trigger himself.” Gwen scoffed at Tommy’s explanation. “That’s it, that’s what happened.” 

“Didn’t realize that you and Polly were the _only members_ of this fucking family anymore.” Gwen’s voice was sharp and she could practically feel Arthur vibrating next to her, ready to go off at any moment. “This is the shit I was talking about, Tommy! You said you weren’t doing this anymore, not without us, and here you are, conspiring with _Polly_ like Arthur and I are already in the _fucking ground_ with John,” 

Angrily, Arthur leaned down to snort another rail.

“Gwendolyn,” Polly warned.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Tom.” Arthur spat, wiping at his nose.

“Don’t patronize me, Polly.” She spat, glaring at her aunt. “Is that why Luca was at the hospital, locked in a room with Michael?” Gwen questioned, referring to the incident a few days prior. Polly looked down at the teacup she was holding in both hands and Tommy just licked his bottom lip. “We lost a good man, Tommy! A man who served and survived, and for what? Serves his country and dies like a fucking animal by a man who -for all intents and purposes- should already have a fucking bullet in his skull! _That_ is a fucking joke, Tommy. And I could’ve easily died there with him! And then fucking what?!” Gwen exploded. “What happens to your brilliant plan then?!”

Arthur, while angry himself, put a hand on Gwen’s shoulder to settle her.

“You put me on a silver platter, Polly!” She shouted, pointing an accusing finger at her aunt. “If I had been in that room with Michael, you’d be lighting another bloody vardo on fire. But life would just go on, wouldn’t it?”

“You weren’t supposed to be there,” Tommy spoke. Gwen’s eyes sharply went to her brother.

“Well a little forewarning would’ve been fucking nice, wouldn’t it?!” Gwen shouted once more. “You two are daft, the pair of ya.”

There was a moment before Johnny Dogs spoke, “Happens he’s right, huh? I mean I thought you’d gone soft.” Gwen turned over her shoulder and glared. “So you got three?”

“Yeah, _he got three_ , Johnny,” Gwen spat, wiping the smile off of Johnny’s face.

“Well, I drink to you, Tom, you mad bastard.” Uncle Charlie spoke up behind Gwen, causing the rest of the men -minus Arthur- to laugh. With each passing second, she could feel her blood boil. She could see Arthur stand in her peripheral vision, and seconds later felt him kiss the top of her head before patting her shoulder softly. He moved over to Tommy, mumbling to him about getting a drink. Gwen’s eyes met Pollys as she stood and all but marched over to the matriarch. The room quieted down, eyes turning to the pair. Gwen kept her voice low as she looked directly into Polly’s eyes.

“The line that separates family from fodder is apparently nonexistent now. Keep that in the back of your mind.” With that, Gwen turned and made her way out of the betting house, Finn running after her.

* * *

**Bonnie Street, Camden Town**

Alfie sat in a chair, surrounded by barrels of rum. Luca Changretta and his associate, Matteo, stood before him. The former looked close to strangling the Wandering Jew, while Matteo tried to keep Luca calm enough to make a deal. 

The man was genuinely insufferable in every sense of the word.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy, you know that? 300 barrels, huh?” Luca questioned, holding the ‘gift’ Alfie had given them both. He chuckled humorlessly, speaking to Matteo. Unbeknownst to the two, Alfie understood every word that was passed between the two in Italian.

“And also, I want some cash.” This brought the Italians’ attention back to Alfie. “Don’t worry though, ‘cause I’ve broken it down here.” Alfie pulled a paper out from the inside pocket of his vest. 

“I’ve got here a list of costs pertaining to the assassination of a dear friend. Alright.” He unfolded the paper and brought his chained spectacles up to his eyes. 

“Now, your normal dispatch, well it’s 500 pound cost, but you’re going to have to add another 100 pound to that because Tommy Shelby, like me, is _from an oppressed people_.” A confused look crossed their faces at the request. Alfie lifted his glasses to see the men clearly to make sure they were following, then placed them back down on his face. 

“Then, I need you to put another ton on top of that because his brother is a fucking animal and he _will_ come after me.” He looked back up to the two men, who looked between each other, then back to Alfie. 

“And _then_ you’ll need to add another ton on top of that because if Gwendolyn lives through this, and from what I’ve heard of your previous attempts on her life already, _she will_ ; she’ll hunt me down, skin me alive, then march me through them streets out there with my balls in a vice, and that just ain’t kosher, mate.” Luca raised his eyebrows, nearly chomping straight through the matchstick.

“Yeah, and then you’ll need to add another 100 pound on top of that because, well, you are a _fucking wop_ , mate. Hmm?” Alfie, seeing just how far he could go, looked up at Luca, seeing his reaction. Then he looked at Matteo, “And you.” Luca turned to Matteo, growling low and seeing red. Alfie continued.

“And then…we have to deal with the ugly business of which I’ve been incredibly clear of, before I’ll need another 500 pound because like I’ve stated, Tommy Shelby is a _very, very_ good friend of mine.” Alfie folded the paper in his hands, done with his list of demands, and brought his glasses down to hang on their chain. He handed the list to Matteo. “Total is down there in black and white. All right? Crack on.” He dismissed. Matteo tried to give the paper to Luca, but he slowly swatted it away. Alfie could tell his temper was hanging by a thread.

“Mr. Solomons, I’m gonna be very fucking clear with you. I don’t need you to kill anybody.” Alfie nodded. He knew what they wanted, but why not take the absolute piss out of them while he could? “I have people that I trust, okay? So you are gonna take my boys and you’re gonna bring them to the ring as seconds.” Alfie gave the plan a skeptical look.

“Well, in order to qualify as my seconds, right, they would first have to qualify as being Jewish. Yeah? And in order to do that, they would have to replace their natural Italian fucking arrogance with a Jewish air of absolute certainty. See, my good friend, Tommy Shelby, he will know the difference.”

“These days, back in the old country,” Luca started, “A lot of the uh…you know, the Jewish people, they…” He chuckled, “They are having to pass themselves off as Italian.” He and Matteo laughed at some joke that Alfie just didn’t find humor in.

“Alright, well, you’ll just have to add another ton onto your bill…for bein’ a cunt, mate.” That stopped the laughter between the two men instantly. “Alright?” A beat passed between them.

“You will bring my men to Birmingham?” Luca asked, to clarify. Alfie nodded.

“You _will_ circumcise them?” He asked without an air of humor. “Yeah, you will have to circumcise them because the Peaky’s will check, yeah?” Luca cursed in Italian, then brought a clearly dubious smile onto his face.

“Alright. Any other requests?” Alfie just looked at him. “Three hundred fucking barrels, we have a deal?” Alfie pulled a face, then shrugged and made a hissing sound. “What’s the matter?”

“Mmm…well…”

“I said we have a deal,”

“Eh, you just made a deal without a negotiation, didn’t you?”

“Huh,”

“Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you, wasn’t he?” _You plan to kill us all_ , he muttered in Yiddish and clicked his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gwen might uhhhh fuck around and uhhhhhhh fuck the gypsy boy out of principle who knows not me *eyes emoji*


	11. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is uhhh......this is just filth. I'm not going to pretend that this is even a chapter. NSFW. You're welcome. Also, I couldn't find a definitive age on Bonnie, but I do know that he's in his early 20's, so for the sake of this entire fic, I've rounded it to 23.

“Miss Shelby, there’s a gentleman here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment,” Gwen didn’t look up from the various documents she was reading, glasses perched on the tip of her nose.

“Did he give you his name?” She asked, eyes rolling up to look at Clarissa. 

“Bonnie Gold,” Gwen pushed her glasses up and shot Clarissa a curious expression. 

“And he’s downstairs?”

“Yes,” Clarissa nodded and looked down at the appointment book in her arms. “You have an appointment with Mr. Clemson of the Birmingham Board of Industry in forty-five minutes. I know you like to have yourself collected before meetings with the politicians, so I can schedule him for a later date,” She offered, pencil in hand and ready to scribble. Gwen opened her top drawer and grabbed her tube of lipstick and a compact mirror.

“That won’t be necessary. Is there anyone with him?” Clarissa shook her head. Gwen painted a light layer on her lips to give them some color and rubbed her lips together.

“Just him,” Gwen put a cap on her lipstick, tossed her reading glasses on her desk and pushed her chair back with a squeak. 

Gwen straightened her blouse and her skirt as she walked out of her office, Clarissa shutting the door behind them.

“Did he say what his business was?” Gwen questioned, taking long steps. Clarissa scurried behind her. 

“Said he didn’t have any,” Clarissa’s voice bounced as she tried to keep up. “He was just hoping you had some time to see him today. He understands you’re busy.”

The pair made their way down the stairs and to the front of the building where Clarissa’s desk was by the main entrance. When Gwen spotted Bonnie, his back was to her. He was reading a plaque on the wall with interest, inspecting the picture above it of the Shelby siblings. Bonnie was dress similarly to what he wore to the meeting with Alfie. He looked well put together, from what Gwen could see, and his flat cap was covering his dark hair.

“Mr. Gold,” Gwen called out. He turned, a blush coming on to his face, but he gave her a pleasant smile nonetheless. 

“Miss Shelby, thank you for seeing me on such short notice,”

“Of course,” Gwen turned to her secretary. “Clarissa, please take Mr. Gold’s hat and coat. Mr. Gold, follow me,” Bonnie quickly shrugged off the garments and followed behind Gwen. 

* * *

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Gwen offered, already making herself a glass of gin with tonic water. 

“Whiskey is fine,” Gwen poured him a finger of whiskey and brought both glasses over to her desk. Gwen could feel his eyes on her from where he stood in the middle of the room.

“Please, have a seat.” Gwen offered as she sat in her chair. “What can I do for you, Bonnie?” The sound of his name from Gwen made the corner of Bonnie’s mouth tilt up. 

“No business, Miss Shelby.” He replied as he sat across from her, cooly. Gwen sat back in her chair, sipping on her drink. “Just came by to talk about the big fight tomorrow night,”

“You nervous?” Bonnie immediately shook his head with a grin.

“No, I’m never nervous for a fight,” He replied with confidence. “I can’t be.”

“Goliath is a very large man, and he hasn’t been defeated.” Gwen challenged.

“In my experience, Miss Shelby,” Bonnie leaned over the desk, “The bigger they are, the harder they fall. And they all fall if they’re in the ring with me. He will be no different.” Bonnie leaned back.

“You seem quite confident,” Gwen observed. Bonnie nodded, taking a mouthful of whiskey.

“You’ve seen Goliath fight?” He asked, setting down his glass onto Gwen’s desk. The way he had asked the question made Gwen narrow her eyes just slightly.

“I have,” Gwen confirmed with a nod. “A few times,”

“With Mr. Solomons?” Gwen swirled the last bit of her drink before downing it and got up. She rounded the desk, lowering her mouth near Bonnie’s ear.

“If you’d like to know something, Bonnie, I’d appreciate it if you were outright with it,” Gwen’s tone was firm, but her eyes held mischief as she straightened herself and grabbed his glass as well, going over to the bar to refill them both. When she came back to the desk, Bonnie was looking at her with something she couldn’t quite identify. She set his drink down and leaned her hip against the desk, forgoing the chair. 

“Are you involved with Mr. Solomons?” There was a ghost of a grin on Gwen’s face as he asked this, leaving Bonnie almost embarrassed by having to ask it the question. Gwen, herself, didn’t think he’d actually ask. 

Gwen almost felt like a spider, having spun a web for this man, who had continued walking into it -unknowingly becoming trapped in the silk. 

“And why would you want to know that?” Bonnie could see the coy smile finally break its way through. Gwen was toying with him, pushing to see how far he’d go. If there was anything Bonnie liked, it was a challenge.

“Well, I’d like to know if I’m going to get a bullet in the back of my head,” Bonnie stood from his seat, setting his glass next to Gwen’s. He was about a head taller than she was, making her look up at him when he took a step to nearly close the space between them. “For giving a beautiful woman the attention she deserves?” Gwen blinked up at him. Her heart felt like a drum, beating incessantly as tension swirled around them in a thick ribbon. 

Gwen took a step to the left and walked over to the windows. Gwen’s noticed Bonnie’s confident shoulders droop just the smallest bit, taking her movement as rejection. She began to close the shutters, blocking off the view from outside the office, then turned the lock on the door. 

“Am I not worth a bullet in the head, Mr. Gold?” Gwen asked, innocence dripping from her tone. Bonnie turned, and by the look on her face, he knew she was anything but.

Bonnie and Gwen both quickly closed the distance between each other as soon as the lock clicked into place. Their lips met in a kiss that felt like an explosion of stars to Gwen. Her hands came up to his clean shaven face, one cupped his cheek while the other ran through his hair. Bonnie was quick to pick Gwen up, making her squeak into his mouth, and moved to push her against an inlet bookcase. Gwen was gasping as Bonnie pulled out of the kiss, his mouth moving down her neck and his hands fumbling with her blouse. 

Gwen’s skirt was pushed up to her hips, her garters and stockings on full display. She started to unbutton as many layers that he had on as possible, wanting to get to what was underneath. Gwen took a quick glance at the clock on the wall and cursed. Bonnie stopped his movements and pulled his face away from Gwen’s chest.

“Everything okay?” He looked almost panicked. Gwen was quick to bring her hand back to his handsome face. 

“We’re going to have to make this quick,” She raised an eyebrow as she said this. “Very quick.” A smirk overtook his features. Bonnie brought his lips back down to Gwen’s as she tightened her legs around his trim waist.

“What the lady wants,” He mumbled. The weight of Bonnie’s upper body held Gwen in place as he undid the belt and button of his trousers. Gwen made quick work of unbuttoning the rest of his vest and shirt, pushing them both open and quite humorously rolled her eyes when she was met with Bonnie’s white undershirt. 

Bonnie almost laughed, and would’ve if time was not of the essence. Gwen moved her fingers to her own blouse, undoing the buttons and leaving her brassiere on display. She could’ve sworn that she saw Bonnie’s pupils widen exponentially. 

Bonnie’s hands started to run up and down Gwen’s thighs to her hips. His calloused fingers played under the straps of her garters where they were attached at the slip. Bonnie brought his lips back to Gwen’s neck, sucking and licking down to her now open clavicle and moving to the tops of her breasts. 

Gwen heard the sound of Bonnie’s belt hitting the floor with his trousers, and felt the skin of his lower half through her stockings. Her breathing was coming out in quick pants, and her nails scratched at the back of Bonnie’s neck while his face was exploring her chest. She gave a push to his muscular rear with her heeled feet, showing her impatience. Bonnie straightened up with a raised brow at her display.

Gwen reached a hand between them and gave his length a few pumps with her hand, her thumb spreading his precum over the tip. She felt the muscles in his core twitch at the motion, and he let out a very delicious groan that made a heat build deep in her hips.

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” She gave another pump, “If you do not bypass the foreplay and _fuck me_ right now, _this_ is all we’re getting,” She took her hand away, making Bonnie groan in frustration.

Bonnie’s fingers moved further up, pushing Gwen’s thighs open even wider. His dark eyes were so captivating to Gwen. He brought his lips back into a passion filled kiss, sucking on Gwen’s bottom lip, and his hand made quick work of pulling her undergarments to the side, lining himself up. 

Gwen shimmied her hips, trying to get any kind of sensation, but Bonnie held her firmly to the wall.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he entered Gwen. The heat in her lower belly was almost too much to bear at the feeling of his cock sliding in inch by painstaking inch. Gwen nearly slammed her head back into the shelf had Bonnie not been holding the back of it. 

Bonnie rested his forehead against Gwen’s, both were breathing heavily into each other, as Gwen grabbed onto his taut shoulders. When he was bottomed out completely, he opened his eyes. Gwen’s legs gave a quick kick, pushing him in just a bit further and she groaned. 

“Fuck,” She breathed out, and that was all Bonnie needed before he started pulling out, nearly completely, and pushing himself back into Gwen’s warmth. “Oh, God,” Gwen groaned as he picked up his pace, pistoning into her with more speed and pressure at every go. Gwen’s jaw dropped open, breathy moans were the only sounds she could make.

One of Bonnie’s hands held onto her waist, the other came up to release one of Gwen’s breasts from her brassiere. Bonnie’s mouth came back down, this time licking, sucking, and nibbling on the new skin. Gwen held his head to her chest, moaning with every twitch of his hips. Books were falling from their upright positions on the shelves as Bonnie ferociously pumped his cock into Gwen, his stamina absolutely blowing her away. The noises Bonnie was making would’ve been enough to take Gwen out of commission completely.

“Bonnie, Bonnie,” Gwen chanted with each breath, each stroke. Gwen nearly screamed when she felt Bonnie move away from the shelf. He held her to his chest, gravity still impaling her on his cock, and legs wrapped around his waist. Her brain felt like it was scrambled and she couldn’t get a coherent word out to save her life.

Bonnie carried Gwen over to loveseat that sat in the corner of her office, and sat in a slouched position. Her knees rested on either side of his hips and Gwen was fully seated on his lap. She took a moment to compose herself before she lowered her torso to rest on Bonnies, her lips sweetly meeting his, then her hips started moving of their own accord, rotating and rising, rotating and falling. This new position had Bonnie hitting spots that made her eyes roll to the back of her head, and every time Bonnie saw that happen, he’d raise his hips to hit it again and again. 

Bonnie’s large, battered hands pushed Gwen’s skirt back up, watching her fuck herself on his cock and he swore right then and there that he could’ve died and gone to the afterlife. His hands moved on their own to her hips and her rear, each hand grabbing a fistful and holding onto her for dear life.

Gwen could feel that very familiar feeling building and building, like a wave before it crests, and Bonnie could sense that she was close by the flutter of her walls. He moved to slouch just a bit more, his lower half nearly off the chair completely, supported by his strong legs, and held Gwen’s body to his as he railed into her with a speed and power she had never experienced in her life. 

The noise that left her was so loud and so quick, it left her breathless as she was at the mercy of the man under her. Gwen’s face fell onto Bonnie’s chest, nearly sobbing, as tears gathered in her eyes from the sheer pleasure that was coursing through her entire body. 

“Bonnie, I’m-” Was all she was able to get out before her thighs started to shake, her brain completely disconnecting from her body. She clenched around Bonnie’s cock like a vice, making his groan loudly. He kept pumping in and out, chasing his own release as quickly as he could. The relentless pounding had Gwen clawing at his shoulders, trying to find purchase on anything her hands could find until he gave a few last pumps, Gwen felt the heat of his cum with each thrust, and Bonnie bottomed out with a satistfied groan. 

Sweat dripped down the back of Gwen’s neck as Bonnie stopped moving beneath her. Both were trying to catch their breath and Gwen felt like she could possibly just…never move again. Bonnie’s warm hands rubbed lazy circles on Gwen’s back.

Bonnie used the last bit of his post-sex strength and pushed them both up so that they were sitting upright on the plush loveseat. 

Bonnie gave a slight chuckle, the sound rumbled in his chest, making Gwen look up at him.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Were your assumptions true?” He asked, a playful glint to his eyes and a grin on his face.

“ _Assumptions_?”

“That I know what to do with a woman?” Gwen let out a laugh and let her face fall back onto his solid chest. Remembering where she was, Gwen stiffened and turned to look back at the clock. 

“Fuck!” She shouted, albeit in a much different tone this time around. She gently maneuvered herself off of Bonnie, both of them groaned at the sensation. Gwen felt what had transpired between them drip down the inside of her sore thighs.

Bonnie watched Gwen run around the office in her shift and brassiere from his spot in her chair. Gwen cleaned the mess between her legs and threw a clean cloth from the bar at Bonnie, who caught it with ease. The two got dressed in silence and it wasn’t until Bonnie pulled his trousers up that he said anything.

“You going tomorrow?” His voice was deeper than it usually was, rougher. He was adjusting his belt, having forgone suspenders for the day, and watched as Gwen adjusted her stockings. 

“Would you be able to focus? Or would the tension be too much for you?” Gwen asked playfully. Bonnie walked over to where Gwen was pulling her skirt up. His high cheeks held a natural flush to them from the previous exertion, and Gwen couldn’t help but notice just how appealing it was to look at.

“I think the tension has already been cut,” He replied, pulling her to him by the waist. Gwen’s hands came to rest on his chest, now covered with his various layers. “I’d like it if you went. _Boost my moral,_ ” Gwen rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless at his play on words.

“As if your _moral_ needs _boosting_ ,” She joked, licking her lips. “I’ll be there,” One of Bonnie’s hands came up to play with the white strap of her bra. “And I’ll even wear something nice,” She quipped, bringing a smile to him. 

“You could wear a burlap sack and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the room,” For the first time, as cheesy as it was, Bonnie made Gwen blush. Just from the earnestness in his eyes, she knew he meant what he said. Gwen leaned up and gave Bonnie a slow peck on the lips before giving him a little push towards the door. 

“You better get going, before you get me into even more trouble,” With that, Bonnie and his flat cap left Gwen with a soft smile to dress in peace for her next meeting that was in -she looked at the clock- “Fuck.” She scurried to throw the rest of her attire on.


	12. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be my longest update yet. I apologize for not posting anything Peaky Blinders as of recent, but I hope this update makes up for that. Thank you for your kind words xoxo

REFERENCE: **[GWEN'S DRESS](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/47428602302448540/)**

* * *

“Gwendolyn, you are an absolute vision,” Gwen walked into the room that Alfie and Golaith -as well as Goliath’s team- were preparing. Gwen was dressed in a garment that had to have cost a very pretty penny. All of the detailing and the glittering fabric, along with the matching kimono screamed that she was a very wealthy young woman. Her makeup was done with a heavier hand than usual and when she passed a pane of glass earlier in the night, she couldn’t help but admire her reflection in passing.

“Save it, Alfie. Where ya been?” Gwen’s kimono had slid off the back of her shoulders, leaving just the thin straps of her dress to display her very feminine figure. She had the majority of the fabric slung over both forearms in a very modern, fashion forward way like she had seen in the magazines.

The pink, puckered scar on her shoulder was also on display, not that it bothered her.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, sweetheart,” Alfie played dumb.

“Haven’t heard from you in weeks,” Gwen crossed her arms, her cleavage bumping forward just a bit and it was enough to send Aflie’s sea blue eyes down. “And if I know you well enough -and I think I do- you never leave a business venture without any kind of follow up.”

“I’ve been spending my time, right, getting that big fucking beast over there,” He pointed to Goliath, “Primed and proper so he can knock the pikey’s head clean off of his shoulders.” He turned to his nephew. “You hear that, my beastly nephew? Be a good lad and squash that little shit like a roach under your massive fists.” Gwen rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Yes, yes, you’re jealous and you don’t know how to deal with it because -like most men- you refuse to just talk out your problems regarding women. Did I leave anything out?”

“Is there a reason for me to be jealous, Gwen?” She shrugged, taking out her cigarette case and lighting a stick.

“I don’t know, Alfie.” She exhaled, “But if there is, that’s a personal problem that you need to figure out for yourself.” Gwen turned to acknowledge the hulking man behind Alfie who was swinging his arms in a warm up. “Regardless of your _prick_ of an uncle, I do quite enjoy watching you fight, Goliath.” The man turned to look at Gwen. “Good luck,” She shot him a smile when he nodded to her, then brought her attention back to Alfie. “And you, behave yourself.” Alfie gave her a sardonic smile as she straightened out his vest.

“When have you known me to misbehave, hm?” Gwen moved up to the collar of his shirt and gave a tug.

“I’ve never known you _to_ behave, if I’m honest. Nonetheless,” Gwen heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Tommy. He gave her a nod, letting her know that he needed to speak privately with Alfie. “I’ll let you lads settle your business. Alfie, we’ll be talking later.” Gwen promised. She had some things to clear up with the man and he looked like he was one skin flake away from completely disintegrating before her very eyes.

_Men_ , she thought.

Gwen’s expensive heels clicked on the concrete floors as she exited the room and made her way to the opposite side of the building to the Gold’s room. She made it down the hallway and halfway through the massive room filled with empty chairs before she was intercepted.

“Look at you! _Look at you_! A star fallen from the heavens above to bless us all with your beauty.”Johnny dogs shouted from across the empty room, his arms spread out wide as he walked towards Gwen. Finn, Arthur and Uncle Charlie were hot on his heels. “I’m tellin’ ya, Gwendolyn. You marry me and I’d worship the very ground ya walk on,” Johnny Dogs said, always the charmer as he gave Gwen a kiss on the cheek. When they pulled away, Gwen rested a hand on Johnny’s cheek affectionately.

“You already worship the ground I walk on, Johnny,” Gwen said, raising a filled in eyebrow in jest. This made the man howl with a toothy smile.

“Aye, I do, but I’d do it till I died, I would!” This made Arthur give a deep laugh. Finn had a smile on his face as well as both of the brothers gave their sister a kiss on the cheek in greeting. Uncle Charlie merely gave a wave, as was his way.

“Alright, you, back to the front,” Arthur instructed Johnny with a laugh in his voice.

“Yes, yes, Arthur.” Johnny turned back to Gwen and leaned in conspiratorially. “Now Gwen, there will be many eligible bachelors here in dis very room, but do not let them sweep you off your feet,” He whispered, making Arthur narrow his eyes at the Lee man. This made Gwen laugh.

“You have nothing to worry about, Johnny, now off with ya,” She shooed him away and he took off in a run, only turning for a moment to send a wink her way. Charlie followed after him, shaking his head.

Arthur tilted some blow onto the back of his hand and brought it up to his nose, giving a loud snort then blinking his eyes rapidly.

“Everything in place?” Gwen asked. Arthur and Finn nodded. “Good. Just keep your eyes open and alert,” She eyes Arthur, who raised his eyebrows at his younger sister. “And no fucking fighting, alright? This is a new venture for us and if we get a reputation that we fight the patrons, it’ll be ugly for us to come out of. Anyone starts anything, kick ‘em out.” Finn nodded and left to let his little band of baby blinders know the laws of the land. “And you need to be sharp, Arthur.”

“I’m as sharp as I’ll ever be.”

“I mean it,”

“Yeah, yeah.” Arthur gave her a soft look and a half shrug. “Loosen up a little bit, Gwen. You work too hard. Take a night off, cheer on the lad, have a good time with the girls.” He held out the little blue bottle towards her. Gwen sighed.

“What, are we in our twenties again? Christ.” She snatched the bottle from the eldest Shelby. Gwen tilted the bottle, tapping some of the white powder out into the under dip of her pinky nail and brought it up to her nose. With a quick inhale, the powder was gone. She snapped the bottle shut and tossed it back to Arthur. “You keep this shit away from Finn, you hear me? You see him with it, you knock him one.” Arthur nodded and Gwen continued on her path to the opposite dressing room.

The hallway had four Blinders scattered along it, keeping watch over the door that held the Shelby’s prized fighter.

“Gentlemen,” Gwen greeted. The men tipped their flat caps as she passed. Gwen knocked on the door. “You decent?” She called out and the door opened to Aberama.

“Miss Shelby, what a pleasure. You look stunning, as always,” Aberama complimented.

“Always the gentleman, Aberama. Thank you,” The eldest Gold held the door open for Gwen to walk through, then shut it behind her. Bonnie was doing exactly what Goliath was across the building. He swung his arms in such a quick motion, Gwen couldn’t comprehend just how he was able to move so rapidly. Bonnie’s team started making their way out as she entered, no doubt motioned by Aberama to scram for the time being. Gwen looked behind her to see him closing the door, leaving Bonnie and Gwen alone. Bonnie, quite in the zone, didn’t notice Gwen watching him until he maneuvered around like he was in the ring. He stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes fell to the woman across the room.

Gwen stood under a florescent bulb, the light reflecting off of her dress, kimono, and jewelry turned her into quite a sight. Bonnie’s jaw fell. Bonnie was wearing his shorts, robe -very much open, and boxing boots and that was it. Gwen appreciated the sight.

“Miss Shelby,” He was out of breath from his intense warm up and his chest was heaving in and out. Gwen grinned, quite enthralled.

“I think we’re well passed formalities, Bonnie,” Gwen took a few slow steps forward, her heels clicking in a tantalizing way that drove Bonnie absolutely crazy.

“My father was right,” Gwen raised a dark brow. “You _are_ bewitching me,” She rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. Bonnie took a few steps closer, leaving a foot or so between the two. “You’re a vision, Miss Shelby,” He gave her a once over, pausing at her cleavage, then moved back up to her eyes. “Enchanting,”

“You and your father both, silver-tongued devils,” Gwen teased, bringing a blush to Bonnie’s cheeks. “But I do appreciate the complements all the same,” Gwen brought her hands up to Bonnie’s velvet robe, rubbing her hands lightly over his chest and shoulders. “I’d ask if you’re nervous, but the answer is always the same,” This brought a confident smirk to Bonnie’s face, his chest puffing out.

“Are _you_ nervous?” He asked in response. Gwen shook her head.

“No, I have every confidence that you’ll do just fine. But the room will be full and the spotlights will be on the ring, and the men will be thirsty for blood.” She pointed out.

Bonnie took her hands off of his shoulders and held them in his own between them. Gwen could feel the callouses that only a working man had. It was _masculine_ and _potent_ and just the feeling of them alone brought her mind back to that afternoon in her office where those hands rubbed, grabbed, and squeezed her in every delicious way they knew how.

Gwen took a deep breath to ground herself. Bonnie brought one of her hands to his lips, keeping his eyes on her as he kissed the top, and then kissed her knuckles. It as so unsullied, so very… _obtuse_ , but it made Gwen’s heart flutter in a disastrous way.

“Don’t you worry about me none.” Bonnie’s voice was soft. Soft was exactly the word to describe what was happening between the two. “I’ve fought bigger and tougher and I always come out on top.” Gwen nodded slowly.

“I don’t doubt it. I don’t doubt _you_. I’ve seen you fight and you do have a gift,”

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like my father,” Gwen shoved him with their connected hands, making them both laugh.

“There will be a lot of eyes on you tonight, not just the spectators. You want to do this professionally, this will be the fight of your life.” Gwen’s tone turned serious. Bonnie’s brow hardened and he nodded at her with absolute certainty.

Gwen tugged Bonnie to her by the lapel of his royal blue robe, more like he _let_ her tug him down, and her face closed in on his. “You ever compare myself to your father in a moment of intimacy again and I will wring your bloody neck,” Gwen whispered, though it as playfully, then closed the space between them as Bonnie laughed.

* * *

Tommy sat between Arthur and Gwen in the front row. Tommy was stoic, as was routine for him, and Arthur was bouncing in his seat, his eyes twitching in every direction. Gwen couldn’t hear what he was telling Tommy over the shouts in the crowded arena, but she could tell that their eldest brother was agitated.

Gwen felt a tap on her naked shoulder. She had discarded her kimono some time ago when the room filled up and the body heat became too much. She and the other Shelby women were getting quite the myriad of looks the whole night and if Gwen was honest, she was thriving on the attention.

Gwen turned to her right to see Lizzie’s stunning face was smiling back at her.

“Come with us to the lavatory,” Lizzie shouted over the roars of the men and motioned to herself and Polly. Gwen nodded and grabbed her small purse.

Gwen leaned over to Tommy’s ear on her left and let him know that she was going with the women. Arthur was right, she needed a night off, and this was just the night to take it. That being said, she leaned over Tommy and held her hand out to Arthur, who looked down at it dumbly before sighing and giving her the eyes.

Arthur reached into his jacket and covertly placed the blue bottle in Gwen’s hand without anyone seeing just what it was. She gave Arthur a silly smile and his agitated demeanor dropped when he realized that Gwen had taken him up on his offer of a workless night. Good on her.

The high from the small bump she did was decadent, but it was quickly wearing off. It got her heart pumping without going overboard and it felt like she was floating and that’s exactly what she needed right now as Bonnie got annihilated in the ring by that gargantuan beast of a man.

There was a time when she did the drug quite frequently, but those days were over and she hadn’t touched the stuff in years. Gwen decided then and there that there was little harm in a bit a fun. It was the Shelby way after all.

Gwen stood and followed the line of Shelby women (yes, Lizzie was a Stark, but by the way she noticed her brother hung up on her as of recent, she wouldn’t be for long) up the walkway, getting catcalls and whistles all the while. Gwen, clearly letting loose, sent a few winks here and there until Lizzie grabbed her hand and pulled her after.

The relative quiet of the women’s lavatory was a reprieve for Gwen from the raucous men outside. Polly went into one of the stalls and Lizzie went to the mirrors to fix her hair. Gwen followed after Lizzie and reapplied her lipstick, smacking her lips together with a pop.

“So, what did Tommy say when you told him?” Polly asked from her closed stall. Gwen’s head turned to Lizzie.

“Told Tommy what?” Lizzie turned to Gwen and put her hand on her stomach. Gwen, dulled by the cocaine, just stared at her puzzled.

“I’m pregnant,” Gwen’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my god!” Gwen shouted. “Lizzie, oh my god!” It as all Gwen could say. Gwen’s instincts had been right regarding the striking woman, and she just hoped Tommy would do right by her. God knows Lizzie had been pining after her brother for too many years.

“What did he say?” Came Polly’s impatient question. Lizzie turned back to the mirror and dug through her purse.

“He said I’d get a weekly allowance.”

“How _romantic_ ,” Gwen said with a smile, teasing the woman. Lizzie rolled her eyes back at Gwen through the mirror. Gwen got along with Lizzie quite well. She was kind and came from nothing. Regardless of where she started to where she was now, she was still the same Lizzie and Gwen appreciated that.

The door to the stall opened and Polly came to wash her hands and primp herself in the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

“Of course as company treasurer I shall be questioning that expense.”

“He said something like, “ _We’ve had enough death, let’s have some life._ ”,” Lizzie said as she lit her cigarette.

“How poetic. You know our Tommy, a real Romeo,” Gwen snorted, causing Lizzie to chuckle. Polly turned back to the two, zeroing in on Gwen in particular.

“Speaking of Romeo, what’s this I hear about you?” Gwen raised her brows in question.

“I don’t know, Poll. Gonna have to be more specific than that,” Gwen brought the bottle back up to her lips.

“Bonnie Gold,” Was all Polly said, a smirk firmly on her painted lips, and a hand on her hips. Vodka shot out of Gwen’s nose in surprise. Lizzie let out a bark of a laugh and Polly looked like the cat that ate the canary.

“Polly!” Gwen shouted, taking the towel in Lizzie’s outstretched hand. She dabbed her face, careful not to smudge her makeup, and dabbed her dress. “Fucking Christ, that fucking burns!”

“The fighter?” Lizzie questioned Polly. Polly nodded to her, very pleased with herself as she lit a cigarette.

“Seems like Alfie Solomons is yesterday’s news now, hm, Gwen?” Polly teased. “Or are you still sampling the wares?”

“I am going to throttle you,” Gwen threatened, rubbing at her burning nose.

“You’re seeing the fighter?” Lizzie questioned.

“Not so much seeing as-“

“Fucking in her office at the factory, yes.” Polly finished, brash as always. The scandalousness of it all brought an open mouthed grin to Lizzie. Gwen righted herself against the wall, eyeballing the two women, and cleared her throat.

“I saw an _opportunity_ , and I took it. And let me tell you…I _took_ it. It was _electrifying_.” Gwen spilled with a grin. In any other time, not under any influences, she would’ve been tight lipped, but her lips were very much not tight in that moment. It also felt good to gossip with the girls, which was a rarity altogether. Polly squealed as the door to the lavatory burst open with Ada stomping through.

“Gwen,” Ada called out to her sister as she shut the door behind her. “This fight is fixed, isn’t it?” Ada looked to each of the women. “Poor Gypsy boy is getting battered out there.” Gwen just shook her head to herself, only giving Ada a cryptic look as an answer. Lizzie and Polly both smirked at Gwen.

“Not the only battering he’s taking,” Lizzie muttered into her cigarette, causing Gwen to blush heavily.

Ada just sighed heavily at her sister and jumped up to sit on the surface of the sink where Polly went back to primping.

“You said you had some news,” Ada said to Polly.

“Lizzie has some news,” Polly corrected, turning to Lizzie.

“Polly!” Lizzie swung around, looking exasperatedly at the older woman.

“Well, tell her. Now!” Polly demanded, wanting to be done with the business. “While the men are screaming for blood.” Gwen handed Ada a bottle of vodka, knowing the news was going to be jarring. “Take a swig, you’re gonna need it,” Was all Polly said to her. Ada did as instructed.

Instead of looking at Ada directly, Lizzie looked at her through the mirror.

“I’m up the duff.” Lizzie turned and leaned against the sink. “And it’s Tommy’s.” Ada nearly choked on the swig she just took.

“How far gone are you?” Ada asked, handing the bottle to Polly, who took a swig and handed it back to Gwen.

“If I were going to London, I’d be in Coventry.” Gwen made a face and took a whole mouthful of the alcohol, then thought better and took another mouthful.

“And are you carrying on past Coventry?” Ada asked.

“All the way to fucking Piccadilly Circus,” Gwen snorted at Lizzie, handing the bottle back to Polly.

“You found out whether she’s having a boy or a girl, Poll?” Gwen asked before taking out her bottle and tapping out a larger line on the sink surface next to Lizzie. The three women stared at Gwen like she was a sideshow exhibit as she snorted the substance with enthusiasm. Gwen rubbed at her nose and looked up into the mirror to see them all looking at her. She turned, mimicking Lizzie with her arms crossed.

“ _What?_ ” Gwen wiped her nose. Polly shook her head. “I was told I’ve been uptight as of recent, so I am taking a night to let loose.” Gwen justified the drug rapidly coursing through her system, sniffling once more to get the remnants that were left in her nostril.

“Boy or girl, Poll?” Ada repeated Gwen’s question. Polly eyeballed Gwen.

“I haven’t done it yet,”

“Go on then,” Ada goaded. Polly took another swig of the vodka, moving over to Lizzie with Ada next to her -excited. Gwen held her hand out and Polly handed her the vodka. Gwen leaned back against the wall, watching Polly do what she had seen done a few times before.

After snorting the cocaine, the vodka had no taste, so it flowed down as if she was drinking water.

Polly, without any reservations, kneaded Lizzie’s tit, much to Lizzie’s surprise. She wasn’t horrified, thanks to her former line of work, but it was still surprising. Lizzie laughed, but stood there nonetheless and let Polly finish her physical exam.

Polly’s face was in full concentration and she brought her other hand up to Lizzie’s other boob. Gwen took another mouthful before Ada took the bottle from her older sister to keep her from drowning.

“It’s a girl.” Polly was sure, never wrong about these things. Lizzie rolled her eyes.

“She’s right, Lizzie,” Gwen’s voice had a slight slur to it as she pointed to the tall woman. “She predicted Ada’s Karl being a boy. She predicted Finn being a boy. She predicted all of us when our mum was pregnant with us. If I hadn’t seen her do it with John, Ada, and Finn, I wouldn’t’ve believed it myself. She has a way, Lizzie. She’s absolutely nutter sometimes, but she is right,” Polly gave Gwen the stink eye at the ‘nutter’ comment, to which Gwen just smiled at her as she lit a cigarette.

“Call her Ruby,” Polly said, turning back to kneading Lizzie once more. Ada had a smile on her face. She and Gwen were the only Shelby girls by blood, so this was very exciting news. “Ruby Shelby,” At this, Lizzie gave a genuine smile to the women in the room. “She’ll be a star in a Hollywood movie,”

“Polly has spoken!” Gwen held her cigarette up in cheers, joining Ada in hugging Lizzie. The door opened once more.

“Hey, Linda!” Polly greeted. Linda had a frown on her face -not unusual. The sourpuss of a woman was not at the top of Gwen’s list of people she’d like to be pissed in a lavatory with. “Welcome to the extraordinary general meeting of the Shelby Ladies Club.” It had been so long since Gwen heard that type of joy in Polly’s voice. The four women were linked together against the sink, arms hugging waists and shoulders. Linda looked at them like they were out of their minds as she went to where Polly had been initially.

“Is there spit on my back?” Linda tried to see her back in the mirror. “There were men out there spitting. It’s fucking disgusting.”

“No, no spit on your back,” Gwen said with a goofy smile. Linda turned and looked at Gwen with a very confused expression. Gwen’s demeanor was…abnormal. Linda turned back and contemplated.

“Don’t let us stop you doing what you came in to do.” Polly stated. “Gwen’s already snorted enough for all of us twice over,” Linda spun around once more, shock on her face.

“No,” Linda’s jaw was dropped. Gwen just kept her bubbly grin, grabbing the discarded vodka and holding it up.

“Cheers, Linda!” Gwen shouted and took a mouthful. Linda’s icy facade melted and she made a very unladylike noise, then turned back to the sink and dumped some of the powder out just as Gwen had. Polly filled in Linda on the whole Lizzie situation.

“You’ve managed to narrow down who the father is?” Gwen’s smile dropped and she glared at the vapid woman’s unnecessary comment.

“It’s Tommy’s,” Lizzie replied, clearly irritated. The joy in the room now sucked out thanks to the negative vortex that was Linda.

“ _Congratulations_ , you’ve finally won the raffle at last,” Gwen rolled her eyes at Linda’s comment.

“Yeah, she’s a real Shelby lady now, Linda,” Polly wiped the excess powder off of Linda’s nose.

“Just like you,” Gwen said, staring the woman in the eyes through the mirror. Linda turned and took the bottle out of Gwen’s hand. If Gwen didn’t feel like she was floating into space, she would’ve smacked the woman over the head.

“Alright, ladies, let’s rejoin our gentlemen,” Polly stated. “And just remember, Linda. If they spit, just spit back.” Ada and Gwen giggled. Gwen followed behind Polly, Linda, and Lizzie. Ada stayed behind to redo her lipstick.

As soon as the door opened, the shout of a few hundred men was all Gwen could hear, along with the blood pounding in her ears. Gwen detoured away from the women and went to the Bar. She stood at the end, men hooted and hollered at her to get her attention. She raised her hand, wrist sparkling in diamonds, and caught the bartender’s attention.

“Miss Shelby,” He greeted. When the name ‘Shelby’ exited his mouth, the men all turned their attention elsewhere. Gwen smirked at the reaction. At least they weren’t entirely daft.

“Vodka, top shelf,” He nodded and turned to grab the clear bottle. He brought a glass from under the bar, but Gwen stopped him. “The whole bottle,” He hesitated, but granted her request. He knew better than to tell any Shelby no, not so long as he still wanted to get paid. The barman handed the bottle over and Gwen gave him a pretty smile before taking off.

By the time she made it back to her seat, Gwen was filled with a new excitement. She waved the new bottle in front of Polly, Ada and Linda, who shouted in excitement. Gwen’s legs bounced as she sat. 

Bonnie got a few good hits in before the bell rang that signified the end of the round. The two fighters sized each other up in the middle of the ring, both bleeding and sweaty, and Gwen didn’t know if she could take the heat that was pounding through her body. The alcohol and the drugs were definitely exacerbating the issue, clearly.

Speaking of _exacerbating the issue_ , Gwen looked around for Alfie on the opposite side of the ring. She didn’t see him sitting where he usually would and her brows furrowed. Gwen turned to Tommy, pupils fully dilated, and got his attention.

“Where’s Alfie?” Tommy furrowed his brow.

“Said he doesn’t watch the fights. Gets nervous,” Tommy eyed his sister closer, not noticing the bottle she brought with her when she came back from the lavatory, but definitely smelling it on her breath. “Have you been drinking?” Gwen giggled.

“Amongst other things, dear Thomas. Alfie said that?” The cocaine and the alcohol completely removed Gwen’s filter and also muddled her brain a bit. “He told you that he gets _nervous_?” Tommy nodded. “It’s a crock of shit, Tommy. He always watches. Always. That thing up there is his pride and joy. He’s never more than ten feet away from him.” Gwen saw Tommy’s jaw set as he put the pieces together. Gwen looked over and saw the empty seat next to Tommy. “Where’s Arthur?” Tommy stood quickly and pointed at his sister.

“Stay here.” He commanded, his eyes serious, and Gwen didn’t have the want nor the need to follow after him, already forgetting what they had just spoken about.

Bonnie turned his head non-conspicuously as he sat on his stool in the corner of the ring, and saw that Gwen was back in her seat. She smiled the goofy smile she had been using all night at him and he gave her a quick wink.

“Looks like your fighter is quite sweet on you,” Lizzie’s velvet voice spoke into Gwen’s ear. “And I don’t need to have Polly’s ‘sight’ to know you’ll be tending to his wounds either way tonight,” The smile just grew on Gwen’s face, but she didn’t say a word and she never took her eyes off of Bonnie.


End file.
